Essays on the anatomy and philosophy of expression

"In all ages the man whose determinations are swayed by
reference to the most distant ends has been held to possess
the highest intelligence."

J^* WILLIAM JAMES

From the library of Anthony A. Walsh
West Harwich, Massachusetts

Catalogue No. Series,

BOHN'S ARTISTS' LIBRARY.

ANATOMY AND PHILOSOPHY

OF

EXPRESSION.

THE

ANATOMY AND PHILOSOPHY

OF

EXPRESSION

AS CONNECTED WITH THE FINE ART&

BY

SIE CHAELES BELL, K. H.

SEVENTH EDITION, REVISED.

LONDON:

GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK ST., COYENT GARDEN,
AND NEW YORK.
1893.

LONDON :

BWRINTED PBOM THE STEREOTYPE PLATES BY WM. CLOWES & SONS, LTD.,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

PREFACE

TO

THE THIRD EDITION.

These Essays formed the earliest and the latest occu
pation of the lamented author's leisure hours; — and
they now appear under the disadvantages which must
attend a posthumous publication.

It was tne habit of the author, in his literary compo-
sitions, to sketch his first ideas as they arose ; and parts
of this work were found evidently intended to be
revised and corrected. They are faithfully added to
the text of the last edition, where they bear upon the
subject.

The following prefatory remarks are from the pen
of the late Professor Bell,* to whom, in the warmth of
brotherly affection, the second edition of the work had
been inscribed.

The Essays which are now presented to the public
in their enlarged form, were originally composed, as the

* George Joseph Bell, Professor of the Law of Scotland in tho
University of Edinburgh. He died September 23, 1843.

a b

vi

PREFACE.

author fondly said in his dedication, " when we studied
together before the serious pursuits of life began ;" but
were not published till the year 1806, after the author
nad left Edinburgh and fixed his residence in London.
A second edition appeared in 1824 ; but he resisted
ever}7 call for a new impression until he should have
had an opportunity of verifying in Italy the principles
of criticism in art, by the study of the works of the
great masters in painting and sculpture.

With this view he visited the Continent in 1840;
and on his return he recomposed the whole for a new
edition, introducing occasional extracts from his journal,
sometimes to enforce the texts and sometimes to shew
from what authority he drew his conclusions.

In a declining state of health he had taken advantage
of a recess in his professorial duties in the University
of Edinburgh to revisit his friends in England. He
hoped in the leisure of the country to give this work a
final revisal for the press ; but before he had fulfilled
his wishes in this respect, his life was terminated by an
access of his illness at Hallow Park, in Worcestershire,
on the 29th of April, 1842.

In the speculations of which this work is the result,
and in the interesting inquiries to which they led, Sir
Charles Bell was accustomed to seek relief from the
wearing anxiety which, from his exquisite sensibility
to human suffering, had ever attended the practice ot
His profession : but a still greater effect was to follow.
It was from these investigations that he was first led
to make those discoveries in the system of the nerves,

PEEFACE. vii

which are now acknowledged to be the most important
contributions of modern times to the science of
Physiology.

Before Sir Charles Bell's time, the nerves, which
pervade every the minutest portion of our frame,
seemed, in the studies of anatomists, a mass of inextric-
able confusion and a subject of hopeless obscurity ; but
he believed that in the works of the Creator there is
nothing imperfect or unnecessarily complex, and that
the solution of this apparent confusion was not beyond
the reach of human inquiry. In tracing the causes
of movements in the countenance and in the frame of
the body under the influence of passion or emotion, he
engaged in a very careful inquiry into the origin, course,
and destination of the nerves ; and consequent investi-
gations led him to those fundamental truths, hitherto
unperceived, by which he, and those who have followed
his course, have revealed to the medical world the beauti-
ful simplicity of this part of the animal economy. To
the physiologist it will be particularly interesting to
trace in this work the steps by which the author was
led to the comprehension of that most intricate portion
of the nervous system, the class of nerves which he has
named respiratory ; a subject so difficult, that it was
long before his views were acknowledged by the medical
profession.

Meanwhile his labours and his anxiety were relieved
by the variety of his pursuits. He was a true lover of
nature, and to trace the proofs of perfection and design
in all the works of the Creator was to him a source of

viii

PREFACE.

ever new delight. Constantly he had some useful, some
noble purpose in view, whether in following up scientific
inquiry, or in enthusiastically pursuing nature or art.
Those who knew him best, and had seen him in the
most trying circumstances of lifs, were most sensible
that there never was a man whose mind was more
uniformly attuned to grateful happiness.

CONTENTS.

PAG 8

Introduction. — Comparison of Ancient and Modern Art —

Studies of the Italian Masters .... 1

Essay I. Theory of Beauty in the Countenance — Of the

Form and Proportions of the Head and Face . 17

Essay II. Changes from Infancy to Age 42

Of the Skull, as a Protection to the Brain ... 46

The Characteristic Forms of Animals .... 49

The Characteristic Organs of Man 52

Theories of Ideal Beauty 58

National Peculiarities in the Form of the Head . 65

Essay III. Of those Sources of Expression in the Coun-
tenance which cannot be explained on the idea
of a direct Influence of the Mind upon the

Features 76

Blushing 88

Essay IV. Of the Muscles of the Face in Man 90

Muscles of the Forehead and Eyebrow . . 91

Expression of the Human Eye .... 94

Muscles of the Nostrils 99

Muscles of tlie Lips and Cheeks . . .100

Beard 105

Expression in the Lips and Moustaches . 108

Essay V. Of the Expression of Passion, illustrated by a
Comparison of the Muscles of the Face in
Man and in Animals ; and of the Muscles
peculiar to Man, and their effects in bestow-
ing Human Expression . . . . . .112

Expression in Animals ... .... 113

The Muscles of Animals . 120

X

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Essay VI. Of Expression in tLe Human Countenance . . 131

Laughter 134

Weeping 136

Grief 139

Essay VII. Of Pain 113

Demoniacs 145

Convulsions. . 146

Fear, 148

Terror 152

Despair , .153

Admiration 155

Joy 155

Jealousy , 157

Kage 158

Remorse 160

Madness. ........... 160

Death 164

Essay VIII. Of Expression in reference to the Body . . .171
The Emotions modified by controlling Expression 179

Essay IX. The Study of Anatomy, as necessary to Design . 183
Of the Genius and Studies of Michael Angelo

Buonarotti 186

The Study of Anatomy 191

Essay X. Of the Uses of Anatomy to the Painter . . .193
Faults into which the Artist may be betrayed in

studying the Antique 195

Or in drawing from the Academy Figure . . . 199
Anatomy, as conducting to Truth of Expression

and of Character 202

APPENDIX.

Of the Nerves, by Alexander Shaw » • 209

Explanation of the Plates .. r • 247

LIST OF PLATES.

Ib face

Age and Infancy Page 42

Prayer 96

Horse's Head (Giulio Bomand) 117

Do. with Muscles 118

Do. (Northcote) 120

Laughter. 134

Weeping ......... 136

Pain 144

Demoniac ......... 146

Convulsions 146

Fear with Wonder 148

Terror 152

Jealousy . . 156

Rage 158

Remorse 160

Madness . • t 160

APPENDIX.

Plate I. Skulks , 247

„ II. Muscles of the Face . 249
„ III. Muscles of Dog's Face .... 250
„ IV. Nerves of the Face and Neck . . 253

PUBLISHERS' NOTICE.

The frequent reference which has been made to Sir Charles
Bell's Treatise on Expression in recent lectures on Art, and
the generally admitted value of the work as an aid to the Art
student, have induced the Publishers to issue a revised edition
in a cheap and handy form.

ON EXPRESSION.

INTEODUCTION.

It is not an easy task to reconcile two subjects so far
apart in the minds of most readers as Anatomy and
the Fine Arts; but if prejudices, early imbibed, be
thrown off, it will be found that there is no science,
taken in a comprehensive sense, more fruitful of in-
struction, or leading to more interesting subjects of
inquiry, than the knowledge of the Animal body,

The academies of Europe, instituted for the improve-
ment of painting, stop short of the science of anatomy,
which is so well suited to enlarge the mind, and to
train the eye for observing the forms of Nature ; or
if they enforce the study at all, it is only in its more
obvious application, that of assisting the drawing of
the human figure. But my design in this volume
goes further : — I propose to direct attention to the
characteristic forms of man and brutes, by an inquiry
into the natural functions, with a view to comprehend
the rationale of those changes in the countenance and
figure which are indicative of Passion.

A just feeling in the fine arts is an elegant acquire-
ment and capable of cultivation. Drawing is necessary
to many pursuits and useful arts : Locke has included
it amongst the accomplishments becoming a gentleman,
and, we may add, it is mach more useful to the artisan.
Good taste and execution in design are necessary to

2

INTRODUCTION.

manufactures; and consequently they contribute to
the resources of a country.

I am not without hope that a new impulse may be
given to the cultivation of the fine arts, by explaining
their relation to the natural history of man and
animals ; and by shewing how a knowledge of outward
form, and the accuracy of drawing which is a con-
sequence of it, are related to the interior structure and
functions.

Anatomy, in its relation to the arts of design, is, in
truth, the grammar of that language in which they
address us. The expressions, attitudes, and movements
of the human figure are the characters of this language,
adapted to convey the effect of historical narration, as
well as to shew the working of human passion, and
to give the most striking and lively indications of
intellectual power and energy.

The art of the painter, considered with a view to
these interesting representations, assumes a high cha-
racter. Every lesser embellishment and minuteness
of detail is regarded by an artist who has those more
enlarged views of his profession as foreign to the main
design, distracting and hurtful to the grand effect,
admired only as accurate imitations, almost ajopearing
to be what they are not. This distinction must be
felt, or we shall never see the grand style in painting
receive that encouragement which results from public
feeling and good taste. The painter must not be
satisfied to copy and represent what he sees ; he must
cultivate this talent of imitation merely as bestowing
those facilities which are to give scope to the exertions
of his genius ; as the instruments and means only
which he is to employ for communicating his thoughts,
and presenting to others the creations of his fancy ; it
is by his creative powers alone that he can become
truly a painter; and for these he is to trust to original

INTRODUCTION.

3

genius, cultivated and enriched by a constant observa-
tion of nature. Till he has acquired a poet's eye for
nature, and can seize with intuitive quickness the
appearances of passion, and all the effects produced
upon the body by the operations of the mind, he has
not raised himself above the mechanism of his art, nor
does he rank with the poet or historian.

It is a happy characteristic of the present times, that
a love of the fine arts is becoming more and more pre-
valent among the affluent ; but still, rich furniture,
mere ornamental painting and gilding, usurp the place
of art properly so called. The mansion of an English
nobleman and that of a Roman of the same rank
present a singular contrast. The former exhibits car-
pets, silk hangings, lamps, mirrors, china, and perhaps
books. The palazzo, on the other hand, in its general
aspect, may betray antiquity and decay ; yet respect
for ancestry retains on its walls the proofs of former
grandeur and taste ; there hang many pictures, each of
which would purchase an English villa or furnish a
London mansion in all the extravagance of fashion.
Vulgar curiosity may seek admittance to the finery of
the one, while princes are gratified by admission to the
other.

Original genius seems peculiarly necessary to ex-
cellence in design. Good taste may be acquired by
familiarity with statues and paintings, and by the con-
versation of the ingenious ; but the power of execution
depends on deeper sources. Jn reading Vasari, we are
struck by the difficulties with which the famous painters
had to struggle. There is hardly one of them who
had not to combat parental authority before obtaining
]eave to give up his days to painting; nor is it sur-
prising that there should be an unwillingness to permit
a youth to dedicate his life to an art so little gainful,
wheie extraordinary excel] ence alone obtains notice, and

b 2

4

INTRODUCTION.

hardly ever an adequate reward. I speak of the higher
department of art.

Much has been done at home by the force of genius
alone. Our native artists have vindicated us from the
aspersion of Winckelmann, that genius for the fine arts
is stinted in these northern climes, — a notion which
has prevailed so extensively as even to have influenced
our own Milton : —

"Unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing."

In his history of ancient art, Winckelmann seems to
attribute all to climate ; not only the perfection of form
in the inhabitants of Greece, but their serenity of
mind, sweetness, and love of beauty. Such a theory
would imply that the people of Sparta and Athens were
characterized by the same qualities. But when Spai ta
triumphed, it was in pride and rapacity. Neither the
general intercourse between nations, nor commerce, nor
intellectual nor moral excellence, derived any benefit
from her ascendancy.* Athens was the mistress of the
world ; and she has left examples of the greatest virtues
and excellence in philosophy, eloquence, poetry, and
art ; yet she has also shown humiliating instances of
tyranny, cruelty, and blood. The history of Greece
is the record of incessant wars, of towns sacked, and
of citizens inhumanly massacred. And in Athens war
was always justified, if it promised advantage ; when
tried by misfortune, she was found wanting : during
pestilence, every affection was blunted ; and licentious-
ness abounded to such a degree, that the people became
brutalized. It is strange that Winckelmann should
attribute so much to the influence of climate, seeing
that where the olive still ripens, in the long summer ol
Greece, not a vestige of those virtues which were the
* Arnold's " HistGry of Rome."

INTRODUCTION.

admiration of the world now exists : and centuries ha7e
passed without a poet or philosopher appearing, in the
country of Homer and Plato.

In the soil and climate of Italy, there have existed
together states of society the most dissimilar. Among
the Etruscans, and in the cities of Central Italy, the
arts and civilization of Egypt and Phoenicia had taken
root, long before Rome* arose to crush them. Her
policy, and the leaning of her most virtuous citizens,
were adverse to the arts. They feared that whilst
they refined they should soften away those rugged
and sterner qualities of the Roman soldiers which
were bestowing on them the empire of the world. But
the old virtues at length declined, and the Romans
came to covet the luxuries of conquered nations, whom
they could not rival in refinement or the arts ; so that
Rome became the centre and the common receptacle of
the spoils of Egypt, Greece, and Italy.

The inquiry into the history of ancient art were an
idle one, if it did not lead to the conviction that

* A more just estimate is now made, than formerly, of the early
Romans, anil of the virtues of the surrounding tribes. (Dr. Arnold's
" History of Rome.") The remains discovered in the tombs of
Tarquinii, Tuscania, Argyllae, Veii, and Clusium, leave no doubt
of the high advancement of art in these cities, centuries before the
foundation of Home — at least of its fabled rise under Romulus.
These cities were the adversaries of the early Romans ; and,
though subdued, furnished to their masters the elements of govern-
ment and of civil policy. Rome had conquered the surrounding
states, and sought to blot out all memory of them ; when new
se tlements of Greeks (giving name to the district of Magna
GrsBcia) again offered to her a more extended field of enterpr se,
in which the arts of peace were once more subjugated under her
iron sway.

If I did not believe that Providence rules in the march of
nations, I should say, that the world would have advanced in
philosophy, literature, and art, more rapidly but for that stern,
remorseless people, obstinate against instruction. We are biassed
in favour of Rome from her language containing the only record
of much that, but for her conquests, would have spread with
earlier, and happier influence, over the western world.

0

INTRODUCTION.

institutions, niLch more than climate, influence the
faculties of man. Indolence steals upon communities
as upon individuals. In the same regions, and in the
same climate, the inhabitants are at one time over-
whelmed in ignorance and superstition, and at another,
elevated to the most admired intellectual exertions.
When the energies of a people are roused, there is an
improvement in the arts of peace, however gloomy and
foreboding the struggle may at first appear. The mind
excited by public events does not subside into indo-
lence. In Athens the struggle for power, and the
desire of independence, forced the highest talents to
the highest station. It was during the contests of the
free states of Italy that the arts revived.*

Perhaps we should attribute the cultivation of litera
ture and the arts in Italy more to the smallness of the
states than to the forms of their governments, for these
were of every kind. While in Rome the Pope was an
absolute sovereign, in Venice the nobility had raised an
oligarchic authority on the necks of the people ; and
both were distinguished from the democratic turbulence
of Florence.

In the great kingdoms of Modern Europe, princes
are surrounded by a dense body of courtiers, political
agents, and soldiers, numerous and clamorous in pro-
portion to the offices of command and places to be
bestowed. All who are distinguished by excellence in
liberal studies are jostled aside, and the prince knows
little of men of genius, far less does he think of making
them friends. But in the smaller states of Italy,
princes sought the acquaintance of men remarkable
for their talent, for the cultivation of philosophy, of
the language of Greece, or of Ancient Rome, for the
improvement of their native Italian, and of poetry, or

* See "Roscoe's introductory cnap'.?r to tho "Life of Lorenzo di
Medici."

INTRODUCTION,

7

of the fine arts : and it is pleasant to notice how easily
the presence or absence of such men affected the
splendour of the court. Amidst the more than barbaric
magnificence and riches of modern courts, certainly of
our own, the exit or entrance of such men would be
unmarked.

Perhaps the circumstance that all negotiations were
formerly conducted in Latin, and the consequent
necessity for courtiers being acquainted with the
learned languages, gave a liberal tone to the men of
influence in the several states, and a disposition to
promote literature and science. Some authors have
attributed the genius of the Greeks, and their love of
philosophy and art, to the conformation of the brain,
— to the form of the skull ! On this subject I may
have occasion to touch hereafter. But does not history
determine the question? The Greeks were not extir-
pated by the Eoman conquests. The skulls of a people
do not change. During all the period of the Byzantine
Empire, between the reigns of Constantine and Palaeo-
logus, luxury, sloth and effeminacy prevailed, whilst
the people of the West of Europe were rising in moral
and intellectual energy, and in the cultivation of the
mind.*

During the latter periods of Ancient Eome, a fashion
arose which conduced much to the advancement of art,
and filled the city with its thousand statues. The
Eomans, like the Greeks, sought a species of im-
mortality by the erection of their busts and statues ;
they consecrated their friends by setting up their busts
in their temples. These being given in honour of the
divinity whom they worshipped, were preserved even
when the personages they represented had incurred the
odium of the people, and when their statues placed in

* See Pilchard's <: Physical History of Man." He justly con
iro verts the idea of Blunienbach.

8

INTROl/UCTION.

public were cast down. This desire of obtaining the
busts of illustrious men* explains the reason of the
multitude of those found collected in the Vatican : they
are chiefly in marble ; for the statues and busts in
bronze and other metals tempted the cupidity of men
in the middle ages, and were melted down. We are
struck, too, with the number of the busts of celebrated
men in proportion to those of princes ; which Visconti
believes to have been owing to the desire which pre-
vailed among private citizens in the better ages of
Greece and Eome, to have them copied, as appropriate
ornaments for their libraries, porticos, and gardens.

The remains of antiquity in Italy, the presence,
though in ruins, of temples, statues, sarcophagi, altars,
and relievos, account for the early revival of art in
that country. These must have been the studies of
Donatellof and Ghiberti, as afterwards of Buonarroti ;
for sculpture led the way to painting. Our country-
men, pursuing their studies there, are placed under
similar influences, and give proof that it is neither
genius nor devotion to the imitative arts which is
wanting in the north. But the time is past when the
people knelt down before the works of a sculptor's
hands; when the Amphictyons, the council of all

* On this subject, see the Preface to Visconti's " Iconographie."

f If all the great works of Grecian art had been at once dis-
closed, it might not have produced the happy effect of thy suc-
cessive exhumations of the splendid works of antiquity; the
excitement, or, as Cicognara has expressed it, " un certo fermento,"
kept up by the contest of princes for these works of art, gave
importance to all who sought to imitate them, and raised them in
the estimation of even the most vulgar minds. The progress in
the history of art seems to have been — First, the establishment of
new families ; then, the erection of splendid palaces and the
necessity or convenience of digging for materials in the foundation
of ancient buildings ; next, the exhumation of fine stitues, and
the emulation thence arising; lastly, the desire of having professors
and universities arose, and this took place at a time when the
pontiffs were banished from Rome.

INTRODUCTION.

9

Greece, gave him solemn thanks, and assigned him a
dwelling at the public expense in every city !*

It is in vain that we dream of equalling the great
works of antiquity ; they were raised under tyranny
and false religions. We must hope for excellence, in
a different condition, as the fruit of a religion of love,
joy, and peace. If the arts of design bear no relation
to that which has the greatest influence on mankind ;
if they stand related neither to religion, nor to the
records of history, nor to the progress of empire, — they
must be ever, as a dead language, associated with
ancient times ; and with us, nothing more than a
handmaid to domestic ornament and individual re-
finement and enjoyment.

Our artists should be brought to consider the
changed frame of society. No one in these modern
times, however much he may deserve the gratitude of
mankind, is exalted as they would desire to see the
proficient in art. The young artists madden themselves
by the contemplation of antiquity, which leads to dis-
appointment and repining age. The last conversation
I had with Flaxman, whose genius was better estimated
abroad than at home, was whilst the old man was
elevated on a great block of marble, in his studio
(Anglice, a shed). " Ay," says he, " we shall see what
is thought of these things two hundred years hence."
Yes, but they will record these things in stereotype,
not in marble. Printing banished sculpture, and no
man now, or hereafter, in addressing the people, will,

* Tiraboschi refers to an ancient chronicle regardiDg the
Dominican chnrch of Keggio, erected in 1233, for an example of
the enthusiasm under which great edifices were built, and where
all grades of society wrought as common labourers, like emmets in
an ant-hill. " Tarn parvi, quam magni, tarn nobiles, quam pedites,
tarn rustici, quam cives, ferebant lapides, sablouem, et calcinam,
supra dorsum eorum . . « . et beatus ille qui plus portare poterat,"

10

INTRODUCTION.

like Fabius Maximus, or Seipio, point to the statues
of his ancestors.

Without cherishing vain regrets, there is a source
of infinite delight in art, even as cultivated among us ;
and we may hold the remains of antiquity as super-
lative models. Gods and goddesses we shall not again
see in marble, but the human figure in its perfection we
certainly may. The Greeks gave prizes for excelling
beauty. Among them a youth might be celebrated
for the perfection of his eyebrow ; and the proportions
of an Aspasia were transferred to the statue of a
goddess. The forms of strength and the proportions of
the victor in the games were scientifically noted and
recorded, whether it was for wrestling, running, 01
pitching the discus. Here, then, were studies for the
sculptor, and a public to judge of the perfection of his
work. Our connoisseurs never see the naked figure,
or, if they do, it is an academy figure, — probably some
hired artisan, with his muscles unequally developed by
the labour of his trade, — pale and shivering, and offer-
ing none of those fine carnations which more constant
exposure gives to the body, as we see in the face, nor
having that elegant freedom of limb, which youth,
under a genial climate and the various exercises of the
gymnasium, acquired.*

For the improvement of art, there must be a feeling
in the public in correspondence with the artist's aspi-
rations. | In visiting the Sistine Chapel, I said to

* So conscious were some of the Grecian states of the advantages
derived from exercise, that they denied them to their slaves.

f I cannot withhold the following instance of public feeling in
England : — When Lord Elgin brought to London the figures of
the beautiful frieze from the Parthenon of Athens, and while they
remained in his court-yard in Piccadilly, he proposed a great treat
to his friends. He had entertained an ingenious notion that, by
exposing the natural figures of some of our modern athlete in
contrast with the marbles, the perfection of the antique would be

INTRODUCTION.

1]

the celebrated artist who accompanied me, " How
could Michael Angelo venture to do such things ?
Were such a man to arise amongst us, he would meet
with ridicule, or live in neglect." But my friend said,
" Do you not remember the impatience of Julius to see
these paintings during their execution? For Michael
Angelo being unwilling to let his unfinished work be
seen, the Pope threatened to break down the whole
scaffolding on which the painting was raised." It was
by such enthusiasm, and the consequent encouragement
of art, that Julius has justly participated in the fame
of those who made his days an era in the world.

It is perhaps favourable to painting, that it has not
to contend with the excellence of antiquity. In visit-
ing the schools of Florence and Bologna, and the
galleries of the Vatican, we can trace the successive
works of the early painters and the progress of modern
painting. In the commencement, the subjects are such
as could only be suggested by monkish superstition
and enthusiasm. They are the representations of the
wasted figures of anchorites, or if of women they are
suffering martyrdom. Even the Saviour, represented
so full of beauty in after-time, is painted from the dead
of the lazar-house or hospital. The purpose must have
been to subdue the mind.* With better times the

felt, and that we should see that the sculptors of the best time of
Greece did not deviate from nature. The noblemen and gentlemen
whom he conceived would take an interest in this display were
invited, lie had the boxers, the choice men of what is term* d
*4the fancy." They stripped and sparred before the ancient
statues, and for one instant it was a very fine exhibition ; but no
sooner was the bulky form of Jackson, no longer young, opposed to
the fine elastic figure of the champion of all England, than a cry
arose, and "the ring'' pressed forward, and ancient art and the
works of Phidias were forgotten. Such I fear is the feeling of even
the better part of the English public. Let not the young sculptor
be too sanguine of support.

* " In the old library in Basle there is a remarkable painting

J2

INTRODUCTION.

influence of the Church was more huppily exercised,
and finer feelings prevailed. The subjects were from
the Scriptures, and noble efforts were made, attesting a
deep feeling of every condition of humanity. What
we see in the churches of Italy, and almost in every
church, is the representation of innocence and tender-
ness in the Madonna and Child, and in the young St.
John. Contrasted with the truth, and beauty, and
innoceuce of the Virgin, there is the mature beauty
and abandonment of the Magdalen. In the dead Christ,
in the swooning of the Mother of the Saviour, and in
the Marys, there is the utmost scope for the genius of
the painter. We see there, also, the grave character of
mature years in the Prophets and Evangelists, and the
grandeur of expression in Moses. In short, we have
the whole range of human character and expression,
from the divine loveliness and purity of the Infant
Saviour, of Angels and of Saints, to the strength, fierce-
ness, and brutality of the executioners. There, also,
we may see the effort made, the greatest of all, in
imitation of the ancients, to infuse divinity into the
human beauty of that countenance, which, though not
without feeling, was superior to passion, and in which
benevolence was to be represented unclouded by human
infirmity. These were the subjects to call forrh the
exertions of genius, while the rewards were the riches
of the church, and the public exhibition, in unison with

of Christ by the younger Holbein. The painter must have been
where anatomy was to be learned ; for I am much mistaken if he
has not painted from the dead body in an hospital. It is horribly
true. There is here the true colour of the dead body : (the Italian
painters generally paint the dead of an ivory white). Here is the
rigid, stringy appearance of the muscles about the knee. The
wounds where the nails have penetrated the bands and feet are
dark red, with extravasation round the wound, and the hand itself
of the livid colour of mortification. The eyes, too, shew from
whence he drew; the eyelids are open, the pupil raised, and a little
turned out. Holbein born here, in 1498." — Note from Journal.

INTRODUCTION.

13

iiie deep feelings of the people. Thus did religion at a
later peiiod tend to restore what it had almost destroyed
on the overthrow of Pagan idolatry. For the new-
born zeal of the first Christians sought to efface every
monument of the antique religion, throwing down the
statues, destroying the mosaics and pictures, effacing
every memorial, and razing the ancient temples, or
converting them into Christian churches.

The Church of Eome has favoured the arts in a
remarkable manner. The ceremonial and decorations
of the altar have been contrived with great felicity.
He is insensible to beauty who, being a painter, does
not catch their ideas of light and shade, and colour.
The Gothic or rich Eoman architecture, the carved
screen, the statues softened by a subdued light, form
altogether a magnificent scene. The effects of light
and colour are not matters of accident. The painted
glass of the high window represents to the superficial
observer no more than the rich garments of the figures
there painted. But the combination of colours evinces
science; the yellows and greens, in due proportion
with the crimsons and blues, throw beams of an
autumnal tint among the shafts and pillars, and colour
the volumes of rising incense. The officials of the
altar, the priests in rich vestments, borrowed from the
Levites under the old law, are somewhat removed from
the -spectator and obscured by the smoke of the
incense.* The young men flinging the silver censers,

* If the painter requires to know these vestments, he will find
an account of them in Eustace's " Classical Tour through Italy,"
vol. ii. Antiquity characterises everything in the Koman Church ;
and to the English traveller this affords additional interest. The
eeremcnies are ancient ; the language of the service is that which
prevailed at the period of the introduction of Christianity ; the
vestnuents are Jewish— at all events very ancient and majestic.
Like everything else in painting, the artist should know the
origin and uses of the drapery, or his lines and folds will bfj
unmeaning. — (See Pre/ace to Vasari.^

14

INTRODUCTION.

in themselves "beautiful, and making the volumes of
incense rise, give the effect of a tableau, defying
imitation ; for where can there be such a combination
to the eye, joined to the emotions inspired by the
pealing organ, the deep chant, and the response of the
youthful choristers, whose voices seem to come from
the vaulted roof? There is something too in the be-
lief that the chant of the psalms is the early Jewish
measure.

It was scarcely possible, during the struggles of the
Reformation, to keep the middle course ; and in reject-
ing the corrupt and superstitious parts of its cere-
monial, to retain the better part of the Eoman Church.
Enthusiasm would have the recesses of each man's
breast to be the only sanctuary ; that, even while on
earth, and burdened with the weakness, and subject to
the influences, of an earth-born creature, he should
attain that state of purity and holiness, when, as in
the Apocalypse, there is " no temple." Philosophy
came to countenance the poverty and the meanness of
our places of public worship. Climate, it was inferred,
influenced the genius of a people, and, therefore, their
government, and mode of worship. The offices of re-
ligion in hot climates were said to require some sen-
sible object before the eyes, and hence the veneration
paid to statues and paintings ; whilst in the colder
climes we were to substitute internal contemplation
and the exercise of reason for passion.*

We trust, or hope, that in the breasts of those who
fill the family pew, in these northern churches, there
may be more genuine devotion; but to appearance all
is pale and cold : while to the subject we are now con-

* Some such thoughts must have come early into my mind, in
trj ing my pencil on the ruins of an ancient abbey ; and when,
afterwards within the kirk, 1 looked to the rafters, as of a barn
and saw the swallows flying about during divine service,

INTRODUCTION.

15

sidering, at leas., no aid is afforded. What a contrast
is offered to the eye of the painter by the figures seen
in the churches cf the Eoman Catholic countries of the
south, as compared with those in our own ! There are
seen men in the remote aisles or chapels, cast down in
prayer, and abandoned to their feelings with that unre-
strained expression which belongs to the Italian from
his infancy : and even the beggars who creep about the
porches of the churches are like nothing we see nearer
home. In them we recognise the figures familiar to
us in the paintings of the great masters. In visiting
the church of the Annunziata in Genoa, I found a
beggar lying in my way, the precise figure of the lame
man in the cartoon of Eaphael. He lay extended at
full length upon the steps, crawling with the aid of a
short crutch, on which he rested with both his hands.
In Roman Catholic countries the church-door is open
and a heavy curtain excludes the light and heat ; and
there lie about those figures in rags, singularly pic-
turesque.

In short, the priests in their rich habiliments, stu-
diously arranged for effect, — the costume of the monks
of the order of St. Francis and the Capuchins, — the
men and women from the country, and the mendicants
prostrate in the churches, and in circumstances as to
light and shade, and colour, nowhere else to be ,^een, —
have been, and are, the studies of the Italian painters.

Again, in passing from the galleries of Eome to the
country and villages around, we cannot doubt where
Eaphael and Domenichino found their studies and pret-
tiest models. The holyday dress of the young women
m the villages is the same with that which we see in
iheir paintings; and as each village has something
iastinguishing and characteristic, and still picturesque
h. its costume, much is left for good taste Ao select and
combine.

16

INTRODUCTION.

When a man of genius, nurtured in his art at Kome,
where everything conspires to make him value his
occupations, returns home to comparative neglect, he is
not to be envied. He wants sympathy and associates.
David Allan, the Scottish Hogarth,* in a letter to
Gavin Hamilton, whom he had left in Eome, laments
the want of living models, and the defective sensibility
of his countrymen. He says, we rarely see in this
country a countenance like that of a Franciscan or an
Italian beggar, so full of character, so useful to the
study of history painting. But, he adds, we have
nature, and with the assistance of ancient models and
casts from the Greek statues, much may be accom-
plished.

* See his beautiful edition of the " Gentle Shepherd." While
a child, I remember him as a kind and somewhat facetious old
gentleman, but chiefly because he gave me drawings to copy and
called me " Brother Br uah."

( 17 )

ESSAY X.

OF THE PERMANENT FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE, ltf
CONTRADISTINCTION TO EXPRESSION.

Much lias been written, and gracefully and agreeably
written, on the sources of Beauty ; yet 1 cannot help
thinking that, by losing sight of nature, and what may
be justly called the philosophy of the subject, the right
principle has not been attained.

Beauty of countenance may be denned in words, as
well as demonstrated in art.

A face may be beautiful in sleep, and a statue
without expression may be highly beautiful. On the
other hand, expression may give charm to a face the
most ordinary. Hence it appears that our inquiry
divides itself into— the permanent form of the head
and face ; and the motion of the features, or the
expression.

But it will be said, there is expression in the sleeping
figure, or in the statue. Is it not rather that we see in
these the capacity for expression ? that our minds are
active in imagining what may be the motions of these
features when awake or animated? Thus we speak of
an expressive face before we have seen a movement
grave or cheerful, or any indication in the features of
what prevails in the heart. Avoiding a mere distinc-
tion of words, let us consider first, Why a certain pro-
portion and form of face is beautiful, and conveys the
notion of capacity of expression ; and, secondly, the
movements or the actual expression of emotion. I
believe that it is the confusion between the capacity of

o

18

FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

expression, and the actual indication of thought, which
is the cause of the extraordinary difficulty in which
the subject is involved, and which has made it to "be
called a mystery : La beaute est un des plus grands
mysteres de la nature.

A countenance may be distinguished by being ex-
pressive of thought ; that is, it may indicate the pos-
session of the intellectual powers. It is manly, it is
human; and yet not a motion is seen to show what
feeling of sentiment prevails. On the other hand, there
may be a movement of the features, and the quality of
thought, — affection, love, joy, sorrow, gratitude, or sym-
pathy with suffering, — is immediately declared. A
countenance which, in ordinary conditions, has nothing
remarkable, may become beautiful in expression. It is
expression which raises affection, which dwells plea-
santly or painfully on the memory. When we look
forward to the meeting with those we love, it is the
illuminated face we hurry to meet ; and none who have
lost a friend but must acknowledge that it is the
evanescent expression, more than the permanent form,
which is painfully dear to them.

It is a prevailing opinion that beauty of countenance
consists in the capacity of expression, and in the
harmony of the features consenting to that expression.*
The author of the " Essays on the Nature and Prin-
ciples of Taste " denies any original or positive beauty
to the human countenance.

Those who have professedly written on the antique

* Great names may be quoted — Plato, Cicero, and St. Augustin,
down to our own professors. "Et ut corporis est qusedam apta
figura membrorum, cum coloris quadam suavitate, eaque dicitur
pulchritudo : Sic in animo opinionum judiciorumque sequabilitas,
et constantia, cum rlrmitate quadam et stabilitate pulchri-
tudo vocatur." — Cicero. Burton, in the Objects of Love, quotes
thus : — " Pulchritudo est perfectio compositi, ex congruente ordine,
mensura et ratione partium cousurgens."

FORM OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

19

say, that, to arrive at the perfection of the ancienc
statue, the artist must avoid what is human, and aim at
the divine.* But we speak of what stands materially
before us, io be seen, touched, and measured. With
what divine essence is the comparison to be made ?
When the artist models his clay, he must have recourse
to some abstract idea of perfection in his own mind;
whence has he drawn his idea of perfection? This
brings us to the right path in the inquiry : the idea
of representing divinity is palpably absurd ; we know
nothing of form but from the contemplation of man.

The only interpretation of divinity in the human
figure, as represented by the ancient sculptors, is, that
the artists avoided individuality ; that they studied to
keep free of resemblance to any individual ; giving no
indication of the spirit, or of the sentiments or affec-
tions ; conceiving that all these movements destroy the
unity of the features, and are foreign to beauty in the
abstract.

In proceeding to define beauty, all that the writers
on art have been able to affirm is, that it is the reverse
of deformity. Albert Diirer so expresses himself. If
we intend the representation of beauty, then let us
mark deformity, and teach ourselves to avoid it. The
more remote from deformity, the nearer the approach
to beauty. So Mengs : " La bellezza e V opposite* della
bruttezza" Leonardo da Yinci attributed much to com-
parison. He searched for ugliness. If he saw an
uncommon face,— if it were a caricature of expression,
■ — he would follow it, and contrive to look at the indi-

* uSe la figura era humana, vi facevano tutto quelle, che appar-
tiene alia proj rieta, e qualita deli' uomo. Se poi era divina, esse
tralasciavano la qualita uraane e sceglievano unicamente le divine."
— Mengs. Again, Winckt lmann, ''La beaute supreme' reside en
Dieu. L'ide'e de la beaute' humaine se perfectionne a raison de
ga conformity et de son liarmonie avec L'Etre Supreme/' &c. — ■
Winckelmann Histoire de VArt.

C 2

F011M OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

vidual in all aspects. He would pursue a curiosity oi
this kind for a whole day, until he was able to go home
and draw it.* We have here the practical result of the
theory, which is, to study the deformities, in order to
learn to avoid them ; and certainly the effect was admir-
able, since we know, as his biographer has written, that
his painting of beauty raised love in all beholders.f

If a painter entertains the idea that there is some
undefined beauty, distinct from nature, which is in his
own mind, his works will want that variety which is
in nature, and we shall see in his paintings the same
countenance continually reproduced. We are informed
that Kaphael, in painting the head of Galatea, found
no beauty deserving to be his model ; he is reported to
have said, that there is nothing so rare as perfect
beauty in woman ; and that he substituted for nature
a certain idea inspired by his own fancy. This is a

* "Piglid tanto gusto nel dipingere cose bizzarre et altera te,
che s' egli s' imbatteva in qualchn villano che con viso strano et
alquanto fuor del ordinario, dasse un poco nel ridiculo invaghito
dalla bizzarria dell' obbietto, l'haveiebbe sequitato un giorno in-
tie/o, fin a tanto c' avendune una perfetta idon, ritornuto a casa
lo disegnava come se 1' havesse havuto presente." — Vasari.

f This great painter a.-eribed much importance to contrast
in painting, bringing extremes together,— cW il brutto sia vicina
al bello, et il vecchio al giovane, et il debole al forte; and such
appears, on many occasions, to have been the principle which
directed the old masters. " The statue of Venus may stand alone ;
but not so the painting of the goddess by Titian, — there are two
hideous old women introduced for contrast. — The Florentine
Gallery. We may take a further illustration from the finest
picture in Italy — the Archangel Michael subduing Satan, which
is in the convent of the Capuchins in Rome. The beauty of the
angel is perfect; the face is undisturbed by passion. It conveys to
us with how little effort the superior nature subdues the monster
who lies howling, and on which he puts his feet. The expansion
of the wings is grand ; and the manner in which the drapery
encircles hnn indicates the motion of descent, — that he has alighted !
We have all the contrast between a face convulsed by bad
passion, and the serenity and beauty of virtue." — Notes from
Journal

PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 21

mistake : painters have nothing in their heads hut
what has been put there. There is no power in us
*' to disengage ourselves from material things, and to
rise into a sphere of intellectual ideas," and least of all
in what regards man. In the Farnesina, there are
frescoes by Raphael and his scholars, demonstrating
to me the nature of those studies which at length
enabled him to compose, not to copy, the beautiful
Galatea; that he first drew from what he saw, and finally
avoided imperfections, and combined excellencies.*

We shall arrive at a better understanding of this sub-
ject, by inquiring into the peculiar form and beauty of
the antique.

OF THE PERMANENT FORM OF THE HEAL), A.ND THE
PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

Pleased as all are with the variety in the human
countenance, and desirous of discovering why, in the
antique statue, that is beautiful which is not found in
nature, we seek for some means of more accurate survey,
some rule by which we may measure proportions.

The scientific principle is deducible from this, — that
the outward forms result from the degree of develop-
ment of the contained organs. The most obvious plan,
and that which has been most generally adopted, of
examining the proportions, is by a comparison of the
size of the head with that of the face ; understanding
by the head, the brain-case, as containing the organ of

* " Palazzo Farnesina. Saw the Frescoes of Kaphael. Som6
finished by his scholars from his outline — only one finished by
himself. What I most admire is the beauty and variety of Ms
female heads, especially the different manner in which he has
bound up the hair and let it flow about the neck and shoulders ;
and yet he may have found all this, St lecdng from what may h«
seen in the streets. Here is the Galatea !" — Note from Journal,

22 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

intellect; and by the face, the seat of the collected
organs of the senses.

But we are not prompted, naturally, to institute this
comparison, or estimate the dimensions of the whole
head. Both nature and custom teach us, every moment,
to scan the features ; and to look there for what is to
animate, to charm, or to grieve us. Every scheme by
which it shall be proposed to elicit the reasons of our
feelings of admiration, love, or disgust, by measuring
the comparative areas of the head and face, will fail.

Nor will that comparison enable us to mark the
gradations in the heads of animals ; because the pecu-
liarities in the skulls of brutes either result " from,
or are connected with, the development of particular
organs. Those organs have relation to the existence of
the animal, to its means of procuring nourishment, the
pursuit of its prey, or the mode of avoiding its enemies ;
and the difference in the relative size of their instru-
ments of prehension, or in that of their ears, eyes, or
organs of smelling, will entirely disturb the line of
demarcate n between the brain-case and the face. The
vast mass of the brain in man, must have an effect on
the conformation of the whole head ; it causes the
upper part of the face to be thrown forwards ; thus at
once distinguishing him from the brute, and marking
superiority of intellect. But when we consider the
condition of the lower animals, we must take into our
calculation, not intellectual properties, but the instincts
of brutes ; and the measurement of the face, as com-
pared with the size of the brain, fails us altogether.

I must speak with respect of this suggestion of
measuring the face against the head, since it has been
entertained by John Hunter, Camper, Blumenbach, and
Cuvier. I shall, however, direct what I have to say
On the subject principally to the works of Camper.

If we arc to study the form of the human head, seen

PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 23

in profile, we must obiain a line, which shall be per-
manent, on which we can raise a perpendicular, and so

commence a more accurate survey than by the unassisted
eye.

If we present a skull in profile, or draw it thus with

the pen, we may begin by tracing a horizontal line,
which shall pass through the foramen of the ear and

24 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

the alveoli or sockets of the front or incisor teeth of
the upper jaw. On this we can raise an oblique line,
touching the sockets of the teeth and the most promi-
nent point of the forehead, or of the frontal bone. This
is the facial line of Camper; and by its obliquity it
will be, to a certain degree, the measure of the relative
proportion of the areas or spaces occupied by the brain
and the face. Another line may be drawn, which will

divide the brain-case from the face; commencing at
the foramen of the ear, it will touch the upper margin
of the orbit.

On looking to these illustrations of Albert Diirer, it
is apparent that he entertained and practised this mode
of distinguishing the forms of the head.

But the idea of the facial line was suggested to
Camper on examining certain antique gems. He ob-

PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 25

served that, in imitating these, the artists failed, from
neglecting to throw forward the head, so as to make
the line which touched the forehead and teeth nearly
perpendicular. For by this line he thought that he
had got the key to the whole difficulty, as marking
the distinctions in the natural head, compared with the
antique. He conceived that when he drew a profile1 so

that the forehead and lips touched the perpendicular
line, he obtained the characters of an antique head. If,
on the other hand, he let this line fall back, and accom-
modated the outline of the head to it, he diminished
the beauty and perfection of the form. For example,
if the line formed an angle of seventy, it became the
head of a Negro ; if declining backwards still farther,
by the depression of the brain-case, say to sixty, it

26 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

declared the face of an ourang-outang ; and so, down to
the dog.

To a certain extent, this ingenious mode will be
found useful. Had the Count Caylus been guided by
it in his great work on Antiquities, his figures, in
many instances, would have been better drawn. But

even in respect to the state of the human brain, this
line does not fully answer the purpose. In the skulls
of certain nations the depression of the forehead is so
great, that the line drawn from the alveolar processes
to the frontal sinus, does not even touch the frontal
bone.

Camper's position is this, — that as, by the diminution
of the cranium and the further inclination of the facial

PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE. 27

line, the head is depressed in character to that of a
Negro ; so, by raising and throwing the skull upwards
and forwards, until the facial line reaches the perpen-
dicular, as on page 24, the great object is attained of
lesemblance to the antique head.

But his own figures contradict his conclusion ; for,
although he has thrown the head forward in them,
even beyond the perpendicular of the facial line, yet,
as he has preserved the features of common nature, we
refuse to acknowledge their similarity to the beautiful
forms of the antique marbles. It is true, that, by ad-
vancing the forehead, it is raised ; the face is shortened,
and the eye brought to the centre of the head. But
with all this, there is much wanting, — that which
measurement or a mere line will not shew us.

The truth is, that we are more moved by the features
than by the form of the whole head. Unless there be
a conformity in every feature to the general shape of
the head, throwing the forehead forward on the face
produces deformity ; * and the question returns with
full force : — How is it that we are led to concede that
the antique head of the Apollo or of the Jupiter is
beautiful, when the facial line makes a hundred degrees
with the horizontal line ? In other words, How do we
admit that to be beautiful which in not natural?
Simply for the same reason that if we discover a broken
portion of an antique, a nose, or a chin, of marble, we
can say, without deliberation, this must have belonged
to a work of antiquity which proves that the character

* On the following page T have sketched the profile of a poor
begging Negro in contrast with the head of M. Agrippa, in which
the artist has dignified the character on the principle stated by-
Camper ; but, it is here apparent that the manly dignity results
from the character of each feature, even more than from the facial
line. It is seen in the eye, in the nose, mouth, and chin ; each of
which are in as much contrast with those of the Negro, as is tha
shape of the whole head.

28 PROPORTIONS OF THE HEAD AND FACE.

is distinguishable in every part, — in each feature, as
well as in the whole head.

We must assume a new principle, and it is this — that
in the face there is a character of nobleness observ-
able, depending on the development of certain organs
which indicate the prevalence of the higher qualities
allied to thought, and therefore human. A great
mistake has prevailed in supposing that the expansion
of some organs in the face of man, marks a participation

in the character of the brute : that the fully developed
nose indicates the grovelling propensities, and the ex-
tended mouth, the ferocity of the lower animals. Let
us correct this misconception by considering the pro-
perties or uses of the mouth. It is for feeding cer-
tainly, but it is also for speech. Extend the jaws,
project the teeth, widen the mouth, and a carnivorous
propensity is declared ; but concentrate the mouth, give
to the chin fulness and roundness, and due form to the

PRoroiri ions of the head and face. 29

lips ; shew through them the quality of eloquence, of
intelligence, and of human sentiments, --and the noble-
ness is enhanced, which was only in part indicated, by
the projection of the forehead. Now, look to the
antique head and say, is the mou Ji for masticating,
or for speech, and expression of sentiment? So of the
nose. Here, even Cuvier mistook the principle. The
nose on a man's face has nothing in common with the
snout of a beast. The prominence of the nose, and of
the lower part of the forehead, and the development
of the cavities in the centre of the face, are all con-
cerned in the voice. This is ascertained by the man-
liness of voice coming with the full development of
these parts.* Nothing sensual is indicated by the form
of the human nose ; although, by depressing it and
joining it to the lip, — the condition of the brute, — as
in the satyr, the idea of something sensual is conveyed.

A comparison of the eye and the ear brings out the
principle more distinctly. Enlarge the orbit, magnify
the eyes ; let them be full, clear, piercing, full of tire,
still they combine with the animated human counte-
nance ; they imply a capacity consistent with human
thought, a vivacity and intelligence partaking of mind.
But large pendulous ears, or projecting and sharp ears,
belong to the satyr ; for man is not to be perpetually
watchful, or to be startled and alarmed by ever}' noise.

If we consider for a moment what is the great mark
of distinction between man and brutes, we shall perceive
that it is speech ; for it corresponds to his exalted
intellectual and moral endowments. Speech implies
certain inward propensities, a conformity of internal
organs, and a peculiarity of nervous distribution ; but
it also implies a particular outward character or phy-
siognomy, a peculiar form of the nostrils, jaws, mouth,

* These cavities do not exist in the chiM, and only attain theil
full size in tie adult

30 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL,

and lips. These latter are the visible signs of this
high endowment.

Then again, as to sentiment, — laughter and weeping,
and sympathy with those in pleasure or in pain, charac-
terise human beings, and are indicated by the same
organs. Hence, the capacity of expression in the
nostril and mouth are peculiar attributes of the human
countenance.

SOME FURTHER OBSERVATIONS ON THE FORM AND PROPORTIONS
OF THE SKULL, AND BONES OF THE FACE.

Let us return with more just principles to the study
of the lines marking the regions of the face and head.

A line drawn from the tube of the ear to the eyebrow,
or prominence of the frontal bone, and one from the
s-i me point to the chin, include the face in a triangle.
If another line be drawn to the lowest point of the

AND BONES OF THE FACE.

31

nose, we divide the face into two regions ; the lower
occupied by the masticating apparatus of teeth, jaws,
and their muscles. If this alone be enlarged, the effect
is an encroachment on the nose and orbit, and the face
loses all dignity and form. The eye is especially
diminutive, and the nose misshapen.

It will be found that the jaws correspond with the
general skeleton ; very tall men, especially if gigantic,

Aave large jaws, and comparatively small heads. In
rickety deformity of the bones, the character of the face
is exhibited, as in this sketch, by a defect in the size
of the jaw-bones, which have yielded to the action
of their muscles. The qualities of mind, evinced in
expression, may redeem any degree of deformity ; but
the peculiarity of the countenance here, is that of
rickets; the prominence of the forehead arises merely

32 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL,

from the accumulation of Lone, and not from a superior
development of the brain. We have a further oppor-
tunity of observing that the projection of the facial
line, unaccompanied with due conformity of features,
only adds to the deformity.*

Blumenbach, dissatisfied with the facial line of
Camper, contrived a different mode of distinguishing
the capacities of the head and face. He selected two
bones of the skull ; the frontal bone as representing
the development of the cranium or brain-case ; and
the superior maxillary bone, as the seat of the organs
of sense, which are considered as opposite to the
intellectual properties. He placed the vertex of the
skull towards him, so as to look over the brow or
forehead ; and then he noted how much the bones of
the cheek, the nose, and the upper jaw projected beyond
the level of the frontal bone. This method he used
as better suited to mark the peculiarities of the national

* " In visiting the Villa Albani, among the indescribable
beanties which are everywhere around us, the party was amused
with my attention being fixed upon the statue of a deformed person.
I was indeed struck with the truth of the representation: the
manner in which the ribs are distorted, the head sunk upon the
breast, and the exaggeration of certain muscles, consequent upon
displacement of the bones. I was thinking of the accurate con-
ception which the ancients had of human anatomy, and the precision
w th whioh they copied from nature.

" This is said to be a statue of Esop, and on referring to Visconti,
where he treats of the fabulist, I see that his engraving of the
statue, beautiful as it is, is deficient in what appealed to me a
due correspondence in the countenance, and the distortion of
the body. On comparing it with a sketch I had made, I find
that I have marked more distinctly the position of the head, the
projection of the chin, and the fulness of the forehead charac-
teristic of that defect in the face which arises from the jaw
yielding to the action of the muscles during the age when the
bones are soft.

" Visconti discovers in the face a spirituality quite in contrast
with that expression which the ancients give to buffoons, and
dwarfs, whose physiognomy they always made ridiculous.'' — Note
from Jour ml

AND BONES OF THE FACE.

33

head ; and to be employed in the skull rather than in
the living head. It may be useful, but it is manifestly
imperfect. The breadth of the face may be noted in
this manner ; but it will better serve the purpose of
the artist to draw the face in front, and to apply the
principle already explained, in the profile.

It was observed in the preceding pages, that the dif
ferent plans of measuring the head might assist in
pointing out the varieties in the form of the head ; but
that none of them proceeded on a just principle for dis-
tinguishing what is acknowledged by all to be beauti-
ful in the antique. A circumstance to which Professor
Gibson, of Philadelphia, then my pupil, first drew my
attention, convinced me that the methods which physi-
ologists had practised were very incorrect. He placed
before me the skull of an European and of a Negro ;
and resting them both on the condyles of the occipital
bone, as the head is supported on the spine, it appeared
that the European fell forward, and the African back-
ward. This seemed remarkable, when both physiolo-
gists and physiognomists were describing the greater
comparative size of the face, as the grand peculiarity
of the African head. I was desirous of investigating this
matter further.

The difficulty of finding a line by which to measure
the inclination of the face would be removed, if we were
to take the head as fairly balanced on the articulating
surfaces of the atlas, or first bone of the spine ; but in the
living body, it will not be easy to fix the head in the
equipoise. Something may be attained by comparing
the general position of the head, in the European and
the Negro ; but nothing approaching to the accuracy
which observation pretending to science, requires.

To find a line which should not vary, but enable us
to measure with correctness the angles both of the facial
line, and of the line intermediate between the cranium

34 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL,

and the face, I poised the skull upon a perpend icula?
rod, by passing the point through the foramen magnum
into the interior of the skull, so that the upper part
of the cranium rested on the point. By shifting the
skull till the rod was exactly betwixt the condyles
of the occipital bone, and in the centre of the foramen
magnum, I procured the line which was wanted.

I now divided into degrees, or equal parts, the great
convexity of the cranium, from the setting on of the
nose on the fore part, to the margin of the foramen
magnum behind ; and having so prepared several skulls
for adjustment on the rod, I began to make my obser-
vations.

In comparing the European skull with that of the
Negro, the point of the rod in the latter touched the
inside of the cranium several degrees nearer to the bones
of the fac&, or more forward on the cranium, than the
former.

On measuring the angle of the facial line of Camper
with this perpendicular line, in a European skull the
most perfect in form of any I possessed, I found the
difference to be ten degrees.

The cause of the difference being much greater be-
tween the European and African skull, in this way of
measuring, than by Camper's plan is, that here the
facial line has reference to the whole form and propor-
tion of the head ; whereas in Camper's measurement it
marks only the inclination of the face.

We have now an explanation of the peculiarity in
the position of the Negro's head, the upward inclina-
lion of the face, and the falling back of the occiput.
A^id here too we have it proved, that it is an error to
suppose the Negro head to be remarkable in character
on account of any increase in the proportion of the
bo^es of the face, to the cranium ; for the area of the
bones of the face is in this way shewn to bear a less

AND BONES OF THE FACE.

35

proportion to that of the bones of the cranium, in the
Negro than in the European head.

My next object of inquiry was to find on what the
distinctive character of the Negro face really depends.
For to the eye a Negro face appears larger, while in
fact it is proved to be smaller than the European, con-
sidered in relation to the cranium. I took otf the lower

jaw-bones from both the European and the Negro skull ;
and then, in order to poise the skulls on the perpen-
dicular rod, it was required to move both forward on
the point of the rod. But it was found necessary to
shift the Negro skull considerably farther forward than
the European : the point of the rod thus removed back-

D 2

36 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL,

ward on the scale, indicated that the lower jaw of the
Negro bore a greater proportion to the skull than that
of the European. The facial line was of course thrown
farther backwards in both skulls on taking away the
jaw ; but the jaw of the Negro being larger than that
of the European, the inclination backward was greater
in the Negro skull. Proceeding to take away the upper
jaws, and then the whole bones of the face, the index
on the surface of the cranium shewed that the jaw-
bones of the Negro bore a much greater proportion to
the head and the other bones of the face, than those
of the European skull ; and that the apparent magni-
tude of the bones of the Negro face resulted from the
size and form of the jaw-bones alone, while the upper
bones of the face, and indeed all that had not relation
to the teeth and mastication, were less than those of
the European skull.

In proceeding with these experiments, I changed the
manner of noting the variations in the inclination ot
the oranium ; because I perceived that an index, marked
on the convexity of the skull, varied according to the
form of the head. Preserving the principle, I measured
the inclination of the cranium by an angle formed by
the perpendicular line (a b) and a line (a c) inter-
mediate between the cranium and the face. On poising
the cranium on the rod, after taking away all the bones
of the face, it appeared that the Negro cranium had
the line elevated nearly ten degrees more than the
European. I also found, on comparing the cranium
of a child with that of an adult, that it was deficient
in the relative proportions of weight and capacity on
the fore part — that the line was depressed by the size
of the forehead increasing in proportion to the advance
in maturity.

On looking attentively to these skulls, it was evi-
dent that there were distinctions to be observed in the

AND BONES OF THE FACE. 37

form of the cranium itself, independently of the propor-
tions between the face and cranium ; that these varieties
depended on the form of the brain, and proceeded (1
think we may conclude) from the more or less complete
development of the organ of the mind. In the infant
there is a deficiency of weight, and a less ample area
in the higher and anterior part of the brain-case. I say
less ample, only in comparison with that which we may
estimate as the standard, viz., the adult European. In
the Negro, besides the greater weakness and lightness
in the bones of the whole skull, there is a remarkable
deficiency of length in the head forward, producing
a narrow and depressed forehead ; whereas a large
capacious forehead is allowed to be the least equivocal
mark of perfection in the head.

Having been brought by this more accurate method
of measuring the skull, to observe distinctions not only
in the cranium and bones of the face, but in the face
itself, and in the cranium independently of the face, I
wished, in the next place, to consider more at large the
varieties in the form of the face, and the cause of the
secret influence of certain forms on our judgment of
beauty.

From the examination of the heads, both of men and
brutes, and of the skulls of a variety of animals, I think
there is reason to conclude, that the external character
consists more in the relative proportions of the parts
of the face to each other, than has been admitted.
On first consideration we are apt to say, that in the
beautiful form of the human countenance the likeness
of the brute is inadmissible ; that wherever we see a
resemblance to the brute in ifae form of the whole
countenance, or in the particular features, it implies
degradation. But this is true to a limited extent
only : and how far it extends, the examination of the
uses of the parts will inform us.

38 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL,

We have therefore again to inquire, which are the
l.obler features of the face, and which belong to the
inferior functions.

In examining the mouth and jaws of animals, we
shall be convinced that the form of the bones is adapted
to the necessities of the creature, independently al-
together of the sense of taste ; that in man, whose jaw-
bones are smaller than those of other animals, this sense
is most perfect, most exquisite in degree, and suited to
the greatest variety in its exercise. Turning to the
skulls of the horse and the lion, we shall see that the
one is fitted for powerful mastication, and the other for
tearing and lacerating, not for cutting or grinding ; and
if we examine the form of the teeth more narrowly,
we shall perceive that there must necessarily be a form
of the jaw corresponding to these actions. In the lion,
the tiger, and all carnivorous animals, much of the cha-
racter of the face lies in the depth of the jaw forward ;
because this depth is necessary for the socketing of the
long canine teeth. When, on the contrary, the jaw
is deep and strong towards the back part, it is for the
firm socketing of the grinding teeth, and is character-
istic of the form of the head of the horse, and of all
graminivorous animals. There is also a peculiar form
of the head and distinct expression, in the rodentia,
and such animals as have to pierce shells for their food,
as the monkeys, which is produced by their cutting
teeth being placed at right angles in their jaws, for
the action of gnawing.

Now it is certainly by that unconscious operation of
the fancy, that associating power which has a constant
influence on our opinions, that a human face with pro-
tuberant jaws seems degraded to the brutal character ;
that the projection of the incisor teeth especially gives a
remarkable expression of me mness ; while the enlarge-
ment of the canine teeth, as we see in the demons of

AND BONES OF THE FACE.

39

the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, produces an air
of savageness and ferocity.*

When we consider further the muscles appropriated
to the motions of the jaws, we may comprehend why
it should be thought a deformity when the zygoma (the
arch of bone on the temple) is remarkably prominent.
It is enlarged to permit the massy temporal muscle by
which the jaw is closed to act freely, and its form cor-
responds with the size of the jaw, and with the canine
teeth. This will be very evident if we place the human
skull beside the skull of the horse, the lion, the bull,
the tiger, the sheep, the dog, &c.

It has already been said that a comparison of the area
of the bones of the head and face in different animals
will not inform us of the relative perfection of the brain
in its exercise. But still we may recognize, in the form
of the jaws and bill, the beast or bird of rapine ; in
the breadth and extent of the central cavities of the
face, the seat of the organ of smelling, tribes which hunt
their prey ; in the prominent eye placed more laterally,
timid animals which are the objects of the chase ; and
in the large socket and great eyeball, the character of
such as prowl by night. With these variations in the
perfection of the outward senses, there are, no doubt,
corresponding changes in the brain, and therefore, in
the instincts and habits of animals.

In obtaining a line which shews with precision the
bearings of all the parts of the head, I think that I
have reduced this subject to greater simplicity ; and
have been able to make observations more correctly
than by the methods hitherto in use : — I have shewn
that the relative capacity of the cranium or brain-case
to that of the face, as containing the organs of the senses,
is insufficient to mark the scale of intellect, or to explain
the distinctions of character in the human head : — That
* Faery Queen, Book IV. cant. vii. 5.

40 FORM AND PROPORTIONS OF THE SKULL,

the perfection of the human head greatly consists in
the increase of the cranium forward ; in the full and
capacious forehead ; and that the cranium of the Negro,
when compared with the perfect cranium of an European,
has less capacity at the fore-part.* It has been shewn
that in the Negro the whole of the face is actually
smaller instead of being greater, when compared with
the brain-case, than that of the European; but that
the jaws, contrasted with the other parts of the face,
are larger. The conclusion to which these views lead
is, that some principle must be sought for, not yet ac-
knowledged, which shall apply not only to the form of
the whole head, but also to the individual parts. This
principle, I imagine, is to be found in the form of the
face as bearing relation to its various functions; not
those of the senses merely, but of the parts contained
in or attached to the face — the organs of Mastication,
the organs of Speech, and the organs of Expression.

And here it is to be observed, that it is not necessarily
a deformity that a feature resembles that of a lower
animal. In our secret thoughts the form has a reference
to the function. If the function be allied to intellect,
or is connected with mind (as the eye especially is),
then there is no incompatibility with the human coun-
tenance, though the organ should bear a resemblance
to the same part in a brute ; but, if it has a relation
to the meaner necessities of animal life, as the jaws,
or the teeth, the effect is incompatible, and altogether
at variance with human physiognomy.

If we take the antique as the model of beauty in the

human head, we shall confess that a prominent cheek-

* In comparing the skulls of men with those of brutes, e.g. the
chimpanzee, it cannot be just to measure the proportions of the
cranium behind the foramen of the occipital bone ; for that foramen
must correspond with the spine on which the head rests ; and the
position of the animal, monkey, or quadruped, must determine the
connexion of the spine and skull.

AND BONES OF THE FACE.

41

bone, or a jaw-bone large and square behind, is a defect ;
that the great depth of face, produced by the length of
the teeth, is also a deformity ; that the projecting jaws
are still worse ; and, above all, that the monkey-like
protrusion of the fore-teeth takes away from the dignity
of human expression.

When the principles that sway our secret thoughts
are discovered, and when by a comparison of the parts
of the head anatomically, a secure foundation is laid for
the accurate observation of nature, the lines of Camper
and Blumenbach will aid us in the examination of cha-
racter ; but these methods of measurement are, of them-
selves, imperfect, and, being founded on a mistaken
principle, they lead to unsatisfactory conclusions.

( 42 )

ESSAY II.

CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE. OF THE SKULL, AS PRO-
TECTING THE BRAIN. OF THE CHARACTERS OF BRUTES.
NATIONAL PECULIARITIES.

The bones, and the parts which cover them, or are con-
tained within them, grow, as it were, by one impulse, so'
that they correspond together ; the fleshy lips of the
Negro are suited to his large protuberant teeth. Among
ourselves, a square jaw-bone is attended by a thickness
and heaviness of the cheeks and lips ; and if the canine
teeth, the strong corner teeth, be unusally long and
prominent, there is not only a coarseness and heaviness
of a different kind, but a certain irascibility of expres-
sion. In women and young persons with large incisor
teeth there is a pretty fulness and ripeness of the lips.

The whole character of the face of a child results
from the fleshy parts and integuments being calculated,
if I may use such a term, for the support of larger
bones than they possess in early years. The features
are provided for the growth and development of the
bones of the face, and hence the fulness, roundness, and
chubbiness of infancy.

There are some other peculiarities in infancy. For
example : the head is of an elongated and oval form, its
greatest length being in the direction from the forehead
to the occiput ; the forehead is full, but flat at the eye-
brows, and the whole part which contains the brain is
relatively large ; the jaw-bones, and the other bones of
the face, are diminutive ; the neck is small compared

CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE.

43

with the size of the head, owing to the peculiar pro-
jection of the back of the head (or occiput).

Compare the outline of the infant's head with that
of the boy, and the effect of the expansion of the bones
of the face in bestowing the characteristic form of youth,
will be apparent. The face in the youth is lengthened,
and is less round than that of the infant. The brow,
however, is not enlarged in proportion to the increase

of the lower part of the face ; though the form is so
far changed that a prominent ridge is now developed
along the course of the eyebrows.

This ridge (the supra-obitary) is caused by a cavity,
which is formed in this part of the head by the layers
of the frontal bone (or os frontis). It is the enlargement
of this cavity (called the frontal sinus) that makes the
prominence over the eyes which is peculiar to manhood.

From infancy to adolescence, there is a great in-
crease in the size of the upper jaw-bone (the superior
maxillary bone). This is chiefly owing to its con-
tuning within it another cavity (the maxillary sinus) ;

44 CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE.

which, like the frontal sinus, becomes greatly developed
with advancing years. And there are several new
characters given to the countenance by the enlargement
of the upper jaw-bone which may be regarded as the

centre of the bones of the face. It has the effect of
raising and lengthening the bones of the nose, and of
making the cheek-bones (or ossa malae) project farther.*
The growth of the large teeth in the adult, contrasted

* The cavities in the frontal and maxillary bones communicate
with the nose, and assist in giv;ug the sonorous, manly tones to the
voice. They are very small in women, as they are in children.

CHANGES FROM INFANCY TO AGE.

4b

with the child, adds to the depth, as well as length, of
both the upper and lower jaw-bones, and the whole face
becomes consequently longer. Another necessary effect
is, that the angle of the lower jaw recedes more towards
the ear, and acquires more distinctness. Thus it is, that
by the growth of the teeth and of those processes of the
bones which support and fix them (the alveolar pro-
cesses), and by the lengthening and receding of the
angle of the jaw, a manly squareness of the chin and
lower part of the face takes the place of the fulness
and roundness of childhood.

This view of the skull at different periods of life
suggests another observation, relating to the characters
of age. "When the teeth fall out in old age, the sockets
which grow up along with them waste away. Accord-
ingly, while the depth of the lower jaw-bone, from the
hinge to the angle, is undiminished, and its length to-
wards the chin is the same, there remains nothing at
the part where the teeth were implanted but the narrow
base of the jaw. The effect on the countenance is per-
ceived in the opposite sketch. The jaws are allowed to
approach nearer to each other at the fore-part ; the
angle of the lower jaw comes of course more forward,
and resembles that of the child, were it not that the
chin projects : the chin and the nose approximate, the
lips fall in, the mouth is too small for the tongue, and
the speech is inarticulate.

Before leaving this subject, we may point out a defect
in the sculptures of Fiammingo, who has been justly
celebrated for his designs of boys. In his heads of
children, it is obvious that he intended to present us
with an ideal form, instead of a strict copy from nature.
But it will be remarked, that the eyes are too deeply
set in his figures. He has made the prominences over
the orbits (the supra-orbitary ridges), which are peculiar
tc a more advanced age, distinct features in the child,

46 OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN.

and has thus produced an unnatural appearance. The
only character of the boy which he has kept true to
nature is the largeness of the head compared with the
face, the fulness of the cheeks, and the falling in of the
mouth and chin. In exaggerating the natural pecu-
liarities, the artist has strictly imitated the antique.
But it may remain a question, how far the principle
which is so happy in its effect of heightening the beauty
of the adult countenance, is necessary or allowable in
designing the forms of childhood ?

OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN.

In touching even slightly on this subject, we must
attend to certain principles. It is to be understood,
that a shock or vibration passing through the brain
proves more destructive than a wound penetrating its
substance. A skull stronger, thicker, and more solid
than that which we possess would not have given
greater security : it would have vibrated to a greater
degree, and the concussion arising even from trifling
blows on the head, would have effectually benumbed
the faculties.

A child bears knocks which would be fatal in old
age. This is owing to the skull being thin, uniform in
texture, and elastic, in childhood ; and to the brain
being of a corresponding stiucture. The brain is at
this age soft to a degree that would be unnatural in
mature years. This resiliency of the skull, and yielding
quality of the brain, explain how the child is uninjured
by blows, which would be attended with fatal concus-
sion in after-life. But there is also a provision in
adults for moderating the effects of such accidents. In
proportion as the brain acquires firmness during growth,

OF THE SKULL, AS PKOTSCTING THE BRAIN. 47

a gradual change takes place in the structure of the
bones of the head ; the protecting cranium is not simply
strengthened ; it is not merely thickened ; the flat
bones which surround the brain are split into layers, an
external and an internal one. These layers have each a
different density, and a softer substance than either is
interposed between them ; the effect of which is, to in-
terrupt that vibration which would otherwise ring around
the skull, and reach every molecule of the brain.

I have elsewhere * shewn that, in brutes, as in man,
the processes and joinings of the skull are formed in
relation to the forces to which the head is to be ex-
posed ; and that they vary according to the habits or
mode of existence of the animal. The tearing fangs
of the carnivorous animal, and the still more powerful
teeth of the hyena, adapted for breaking the hardest
bones, are implanted in sockets of corresponding
strength. The horns of the bull, the antlers of the
stag, are rooted in bones not only capable of support-
ing their weight, but of receiving the shocks to which
such instruments expose the brain ; and the firmness
of the sutures in the crania of these animals demon-
strates the precision with which everything is set in
just proportion.

A remark is here suggested by these considerations.
The provisions which we have been noticing in the
human head are not designed to give absolute security
against violence, but to balance duly the chances of
life ; leaving us still under the conviction that pain
and death follow injur}' ; so that our experience of
bodily suffering, and fear of incurring it, whilst they
protect the life, lay the foundation of important moral
qualities in our nature.

Let us now direct our attention especially to the

* Paley's " Natural Theology with illustrative notes by Henry
Lord Brougham and Sir Charles Bell.

48 OF THE SKULL, AS PROTECTING THE BRAIN

forms of the skull. The back of the head is more ex-
posed than the forehead : we defend the front with our
arms and hands : not so the back, as in falling back-
wards. There is, accordingly, a very marked distinc-
tion in the strength of the occipital bone and that of
the frontal bone. The prominence felt at the back
part of the head is the centre of certain groinings, or
arched ridges, which strengthen the bone within. We
say groinings, for there is nothing more resembling
the strong arches, or groinings, of an underground
storey of a building than these projections on the in-
terior of the occiput. In front, the skull forms, on the
whole, a lighter and more delicate shell than behind ;
yet it is not less adapted to protect the brain. The
projecting parts of the forehead, which the anatomist
calls the eminentice front ales, are, undoubtedly, most ex-
posed ; but they are, at the same time, the strongest
points of the bone, for here the outer and inner surfaces
are not parallel ; there is an accumulation of bony sub-
stance in the two tables, to give them increased thick-
ness. It has already been seen that the prominences
over the eyebrows, characteristic of the mature or manly
forehead, have no relation to the form of the brain at
this part ; they are merely the anterior walls of the
frontal sinuses, — cavities which, it has been stated,
belong principally to the organ of vcice ; yet they and
the ridges which project towards the temples, are a
safeguard to the brain. Those latter raised arches,
called the temporal ridges of the frontal bone, consist of
dense and hard bone, as obviously designed for adding
strength, as is an edging of brass, in carpentry, or a
piece of steel let into a horse-shoe. Imagine a man
falling side- wise, and pitching on the shoulder and side
of the head, — he strikes precisely on that point which
is the most convex, the most dense, the thickest, and
best protected.

CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. 49

Altogether, independently of phrenology, it has of
old time been acknowledged, that fulness of the fore-
head, combined with those forms which have been
noticed, is an indication of intellectual capacity; and, as
we have shewn, of human character and beauty. All
physiologists have agreed in this view ; whilst they are
equally confident in affirming that anatomy affords no
foundation for mapping the cranium into minute sub-
divisions or regions. As nature, by covering the head,
has intimated her intention that we shall not there
scan our neighbours' capacities, she has given us the
universal language of expression. Man is gregarious ;
he looks for sympathy : it is not good for him to be
alone ; he solicits an unity of sentiment ; and the
language which expresses it is in the face.

THE CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF THE LOWER ANIMALS.

Notwithstanding the high authorities in favour of
the facial line, we have ventured to say that it is not
adapted to give a measure of the capacity or area of
the head in contrast with the face, in brutes; because
the peculiarities of face in them depend on their
instincts and propensities. These are for the most part
indicated by the greater development of some one or
more of the organs common to them all, and the subser-
viency of others, not by the mass of the brain. The
head of the horse presents us with an example ; it is
an herbivorous or graminivorous animal, and hence the
peculiarities of its teeth. Now, it is in accordance
with the teeth that the whole character of its form is
derived. The incisor teeth or nippers project, that the
head may reach the ground for feeding ; and they have
a peculiar structure, that they may be preserved sharp.

50 CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS.

The lips also conform to this object ; they are not only
suited to cover the teeth, but to project and gather the
food. Again, the grinders are large, strong, deeply
socketed, and adapted to bear the trituration of the food
for a term of years corresponding to the natural life of the
animal. While the mouth is small, the head is long ;
and the muscles which operate on the lower jaw, to
close it, and to give it the lateral motions necessary for
grinding, are proportionably large; therefore the depth
of the head behind, and the length and narrowness
forwards, are the principal characteristics of the horse.*

Another peculiarity of the horse's head is seen in the
construction of his nostril. He does not breathe through
the mouth, but only through the nose. Here is an
interesting relation of parts, which, though remote in
place, are united in function. The nostril is indicative
of the state of the lungs : and a large dilateable nostril
has descended from the Arabian breed, and marks the
capacity of " wind."

It is agreeable to see the young kid in the first hours
of existence, impelled by its instincts to mount the cliffs
and summits of the hills ; or to behold the goat perched
high on the scarped rock, his beard tossed by the wind,

* Cuvier has been at the pains of measuring the facial line in a
great variety of animals, beginning with the ourang-outang and
ending with the horse. Let us take the pug-dog, in which the angle
is fixed at 35°, and compare it with the horse at 23°; who will not
perceive that the difference of the faiial angles depends on the
extension of the jaws of the horse, necessarily arising from the form
and number of the teeth, or, in other words, from his mode of
feeding ?

Veterinary surgeons and naturalists have found it difficult to assign
a use for certain cavities at the back part of the horde's head called
the Eustachian cells. To me they do not appear to be subservient
either to neighing or to the organ of hearing, as supposed; but they
are placed in this situation, and filled with air, to occupy the large
space intervening between the sides of the jaws, without materially
increasing the weight. All jockeys know the defect in a horse of a
heavy head and long neck.

CHARACTERISTIC FORMS OF LOWER ANIMALS. 51

and browsing fearlessly. These animals, the sheep, and
horned cattle generally, congregate, and make a circle
to oppose an enemy and present for their defence a
combined front. Their eyes are placed differently from
those of the horse ; and the nostril wants the expansion
necessary for maintaining a continued flight. The most
curious adaptation of the form of an herbivorous animal
to its mode of feeding is seen in the giraffe. The whole
frame of the creature is formed with the view of enabling
it to reach its food, which is not the herbage, but the
leaves of trees. The skull is small, and so light, even in
comparison with that of the horse, that it is like a
thing of paper ; and the tongue and the lips protrude
to catch the branches over head. The large prominent
eyes, and the limbs formed for flight, betoken the
timidity of the creature.

If we compare a carnivorous animal, as the lion, with
a horned animal, as the bull, it will be readily perceived
that it is from the teeth or the horns that the whole
character of the head results. The peculiarity of the
skull of the lion, or the tiger, consists chiefly in the
breadth of the face, caused by the large zygomatic
processes, which are formed of great size to give room to
the strong muscles that close the jaw : and it is visible
also in the shortness of the muzzle, and the depth of the
face in front, where the canine teeth are situated ; for
these must be deeply socketed in the jaws to sustain the
strength of the fangs, and the powerful efforts of the
animal. The gi inding-teeth are small, and formed so
as to cut like scissors ; for there is here no lateral play
of the jaws as in grinding ; the canine teeth overlap-
ping and preventing that motion. The muscles which
close the jaws are of tremendous power, commensurate
with the length and strength of those fangs which are
for holding or tearing the prey.

See, again, the head of the boar, how all the pans

e 2

52

CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN.

hang, as it were, together, to produce its characteristic
form : the snout and the great tusks are for grubbing up
roots ; yet, from his strength, he is a formidable animal,
for he will turn and rend. This very term implies a
great deal ; he does not tear with his teeth, he does
not hutt as with horns ; but he runs straight forward,
and with his projecting lateral tusk ploughs up the flesh.
The whole strength of his body and neck is concentrated
to the use of these formidable instruments. Look to
ihe antique boar of the Florentine Gallery. The head
rises high and projects behind, to give strong attach-
ment to the powerful muscles constituting his very
peculiarly shaped neck, which is large, thick, inflexible,
and suited, when he rushes forwards, to convey the
impulse to the head, and finally to the tusks.*

It ought to be a pleasing study to the artist to found
his designs on an accurate knowledge of the structure
and functions of animals. This pursuit unites his art
with the liberal sciences of the naturalist and the com-
parative anatomist. And if he be a lover of the antique,
he must have observed that, in the better ages of the
arts, the sculptors were remarkable for giving a true
and natural character in their representations of brutes.
The knowledge of animal form is the only guide to
the right conception of the perfection and beauty of the
antique.

FURTHER ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PRINCIPLE, THAT BEAUTY
IN THE HUMAN FORM HAS RELATION TO THK CHARAC-
TERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN.

What, then, giv^es nobleness and grace to the human
figure, and how is deformity to be avoided? In the
statues of antiquity we see that the artists had a perfect

* ** Brlcteewater Treatise on the Human Hand," Bokn's Library.

CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 53

knowledge of the frame, and could represent it in all its
natural beauty. But in many of these remains there
is something beyond an exact copy of nature,— some-
thing which, as we haro seen, has been called divine.
Now the difficulty of explaining why such deviations
from real nature should inspire us with admiration,
has forced inquirers into vague surmises and com-
parisons. For example, they have applied the prin-
ciples of harmony in music to the beauty of the human
figure.

When the animal frame is surveyed as a whole, or
as composed of parts more or less common to all
living creatures, which is taking the philosophical
view of the subject, an uniform plan is seen to per-
vade the animal kingdom. Not only may the skeleton
be traced from a shell up to the complex mechanism
in man,* but every organ or individual part, when
viewed comparatively, will be found to undergo a
similar development ; from the simple structure of those
creatures which enjoy the lowest kind of sensibility,
to that which exists in the human frame. If, according
to this view, we examine the head, and follow the
course of development of the brain, as the part which
occupies the cranium, and then that of the organs of
the senses, which together constitute the face, and
include the apparatus of speech, we shall distinguish
what is peculiar to man. We shall learn what forms
of parts bear relation to those endowments by which he
holds his acknowledged superiority; and the conclusion
may be arrived at, that by magnifying, in works of
art, what is peculiarly characteristic of man, we may
ennoble his countenance, and, without being strictly
natural, attain what is better.

No faculties of the mind have been bestowed without

* See the author's " Bridgewater Treatise on the Human Hand/'
which may be taken as an introduction to the present subject,

54

CHARACTER1ST W ORGANS 01 MAN.

the field for their exercise ; men's capacities, theii
thoughts, and their affections, have their counterparts,
or objects, to excite or to gratify them. There are
beings superior to ourselves, and in a condition of
existence different from ourselves, and the mind de-
lights m contemplating them. Even in our enjoyment
of beautiful objects, our thoughts rise beyond them.
We walk into the country, in the woods and wilds,
in love with nature and delighting in solitude. But
if we examine our minds, we shall find that we people
these solitudes ; however we may believe that it is
nature and inanimate creation which please us, all is
referable to, and concentres in, some reflexion of the
voice and features of human kindred.

In admiring the finer works of antiquity, it is ad-
mitted that the forms which we regard as models of
perfection are unlike what has existed in nature : that
no living head ever had the facial line of the Jupiter,
the Apollo, the Mercury, or the Venus. Having found
reasons to reject the theory of Camper, the question
returns, How is that beautiful which is not natural ?

Let us take the head of Mercury, which is simply
beautiful, and the head of a Satyr, both antique ; and
contemplate them in succession. In the Mercury there
is a combination of forms and general proportions of
the head and face, never seen in all the varieties of living
man ; }Tet is the whole and each particular feature per-
fectly beautiful. In turning to the Satyr, we find every
proportion reversed : the forehead narrow and depressed ;
the e}Tes near, small, and a little oblique; the nose
flattened to the upper lip ; the mouth protuberant ; the
ears large, tipped, and sharp ; and the expression of the
whole goatish and savage ; and what there is of human
expression is lively and humorous, but common and
base. Now the principle which has been followed in
giving beauty to the head of Mercury ie obvious here.

CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN. 55

Whatever is peculiar to the human countenance, as dis-
tinguishing it from the brute, is enhanced. Not only
is the forehead expanded and projecting, and the facial
line more perpendicular, but every feature is modelled on
the same principle • the ear is small and round ; the
nostril is eminently human, and unlike that of the
beast ; the mouth, the teeth, and lips, are not such as
belong to the brute, nor are they the mere instruments
of mastication, but of speech and human expression.
So of every part, take them individually, or as a whole ;
whatever would lead to the resemblance of the brute
is omitted or diminished.

The principle is further extended. It is not in the
proportions between the face and the brain-case alone
that the contrast is perceived, but in the quality or func-
tion of each organ. We have adverted to the theory of
Cuvier, that as hunger and the animal passions govern
brutes, and as the parts which chiefly minister to them
in the face, are the organs of smell and of taste, the
unusual development of the nose and mouth degrades
or bru titles the human countenance. But we remarked,
in regard to this, that the nose is not elevated in man
to increase the organ of smelling : it belongs to the
voice, to human voice and speech. And so must we
consider the different functions of the mouth. In brutes,
it is for prehension, tearing, and mastication ; in man,
its more distinguishable office is speech and expression.
Model the lips for this, for eloquence and the expression
of the softer passions, and it becomes beautiful ; extend
the teeth, and make the lips a mere covering for them,
and it is brutal, at variance with human physiognomy
and detracting from whatever is agreeable in the face.

Our principle will apply with equal force to the
motions of the face as to the permanent form. Human
sentiments prevailing in the expression of a face, vrilj
always make it agreeable or lovely. Expression is

56

CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN.

even of more consequence than shape: it will light
tip features otherwise heavy ; it will make us forget
all but the quality of the mind. As the natural tones
of the voice are understood and felt by all, so it is with
the movements of the countenance : on these we are con-
tinually intent, and the mind is ever insensibly exercised.

Whether the views which I have here advocated were
ever announced by the ancients, I know not. But 1
think it is abundantly evident that their artists acted
upon them. They went beyond mere imitation. They
advanced to a higher study, that of combining excel-
lencies ; selecting what was indicative of the higher
and purer qualities, impassioned thought, and this they
exaggerated. Their divinities were of human mould ;
but still as not visibly present they were creations of
their imagination.*

The explanation which I offer differs from what is

* In high art it appears to have been the rule of the sculptor
to divest the form of expression. In the Apollo, there is such a
stillness of features, that everyone follows his fancy, and thinks he
sees in the statue what is really in his own mind In the Venus,
the form is exquisite and the face perfect, but there is no express on

there: it has no human softness, nothing to love. Mrs. saw

a young gentleman, she thinks an American, kissing the tips of his
fingers to the statue, as he left the tribune (the apartment dedi-
cated to the goddess), but for this the statue gives no licence ; it
would not have been unbecoming had he so saluted the Melpomene,
for there we see the loveliness which lurks in expression. The
authoress of an agreeable work on Home is disturbed because "she
has seen women, real living women, almost as beautiful as the Venus,
and far more interesting." We should find more of her way of
thinking, if all would confess their first impressions. This, however,
cannot detract from the perfection of a statue, which has been
admired in all times, as now. It only points to the purity of the
design, the high aim of the artist, and its successful execution.
Had the Helen of Zeuxis been preserved, I can imagine that it
would have been of a more feminine and seducing beauty than the
Venus. But we must bear in mind that which I have taken notice
of in the text, that all individual ty was studiously avoided by the
ancient sculptors, in the representation of divinity ; they maintained
the beauty of form and proportion, but without expression, which, in
their system, belonged exclusively to humanity.

CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF M .N.

57

commonly given by writers on art. They call the
" ideal head " that which does not represent individual
beauty, but collective beauties, a selection and adapta-
tion of beautiful parts taken from a variety of indi-
viduals, and combined in one representation.* I place
the superiority of the antique on higher ground, on the
more extended study of nature, of brutes as well as of
man.

That the true animal character was fully understood
by the ancient artists there is sufficient proof. Is
there anything finer than the wolf of the Capitol, or
the antique boar, or the dogs in the entrance of the
Florentine Gallery, or the horses of the Elgin marbles ?
It was this study of pure nature that enabled them to
undertake such compositions of surprising beauty, as we
see in their Fauns, Satyrs, Centaurs, and masks, where
the peculiarities of brutes are engrafted on the human
form. And it may be remarked that they did not
merely give to their sylvan deities hair and cloven
feet ; they bestowed on them a certain consistency of
character very difficult of execution, but necessary to
reconcile the eye to the absurdity ; a goatish expression
of countenance, or a merry festive air, all in conformity
with the hair and the hoofs, their embrowned skin, and
the savage wildness of their life.f

What, then, was more natural or obvious, in studying
the effect of these forms and characters when transferred

* <{ Nous dirons done, que la combinaifcon des parties peut former
un tout, et ce qu'on appelle 1' ideal." — Winckelmann.

f The difficulty of giving these combinations of the human and
brute character, is shewn in the attempts of modern artists to imi-
tate the ancients in their representations of Fauns and sylvan boys.
They do not sueni to know how to knit their joints, and their foieg
are too sober and wise.

" faber imus et ungues

Exprimtt, et molles imitabitur aere capilios,
Infelix operis summa, quia ponere totuni
Nesciet."

58 CHARACTERISTIC ORGANS OF MAN,

to the Imman countenance, than that the artist should
perceive that the proportions which distinguish them
should be avoided, or even reversed, in representing tne
dignified and characteristic form of man ?

Winckelmann would make it appear that the artists
of Greece studied the forms of the lower animals for a
different purpose : — to join the character of the brute
with that of man, in order to embellish him, and to
bestow on him new and preternatural properties. And
he refers to the heads of Jupiter and of Hercules as
instances. " In the former," he says, " we may discover
the great eyes, and imposing front, and the mane of the
lion ; and in the latter, the head and neck of the bull."

I must entertain doubts of this theory, and of the
effect of the excessive exaggeration ; — in the head of
Jupiter I have not felt its influence. But, if the theory
be true, it goes to establish the fact, that the artists
studied the form of brutes in comparison with that of
man ; and I hold it to be an inevitable consequence of
such a comparison, that they should discover that the
perfection of the human form was to be attained, by
avoiding what was characteristic of the inferior animals,
and increasing the proportions of those features which
belong to man.

1 shall not deny ingenuity to the theory of Hogarth,
or usefulness to that proposed by Sir Joshua Keynolds.
But there is danger to the modern artist, if he is
led to conceive that he can bestow beauty by following
some fancied curve or gradation of outline. Sir Joshua
held that beauty is the medium, or centre, of the various
forms of individuals : that every species of animal has
a fixed and determinate form, towards which nature is
continually inclining, like lines terminating in a centre,
or pendulums vibrating in different directions over a
single point : as all these lines cut the centre, while
only one passes through any other point, so he conceived

THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY.

59

that perfect beauty is oftener produced than any one
kind of deformity. This ingenious idea is well suited
to the portrait-painter, who will not be a favourite
unless he knows how to soften the features and preserve
the likeness. But there is this fatal objection to it ;
that, as in the antique the artists deviated from nature,
the pendulum would never reach the centre.

It is happy for philosoph}^ science, history, poetry,
and eloquence, that the Greeks were a superior people,
and happy for our subject that they were an eminently
beautiful people. The artists of Greece certainly did
not follow a vague line of beauty. They rather imitated
some acknowledged beautiful form of age or sex. They
even combined the beauty of both sexes, as in the young
Bacchus, or more decidedly in the Hermaphrodite.

With them, the highest effort of art was to represent
man deified ; as it were, purified from the grosser cha-
racters of nature. This they did, as we have already
seen, by exaggerating whatever is proper to the human
form : by increasing what gives dignity, and bestowing
features capable of and prone to the expression of the
finer emotions ; representing them, either as still and
imperturbed, or as indicating a superiority to the things
of this lower world.

In painting, the representation of the Deity is always
a distressing failure. If to represent Him who " became
man," and u dwelt among us," be the highest effort of
art, how is the Creator to be represented? Michael
Angelo painted the Deity boldly, and with the expres-
sion of the indignant wrath of man. Eaphael repre-
sents the Creator plunging into chaos * and separating
the elements. But on viewing these paintings, we are
brought to feel the insufficiency of the art, and to
think of the artist to the exclusion of all sublime con-
templations which the subject should inspire. Yet it

* In the Gallery of Raphael, in the Vatican.

60

THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY.

is foolish to call such attempts impiety, since no other
idea is presented than that which is inculcated from our
infancy. Our expressions in words are at variance with
our just conception of Divine Intelligence, and our
tongue as imperfect as the pencil of the painter. The
one solitary expression in the Scriptures descriptive of
the person of God is studiously obscure, and the accom-
paniments of His presence, not the countenance of the
Almighty, are described.

The sentiments of Plato, Cicero, and Seneca, are
brought to bear on this subject of beauty and ideal
perfection. Yet it is fortunate that we have the works
of the ancient sculptors before us, to preserve us from
the influence of vague theories. Cicero has given us
his conception of a perfect orator. " And such an ideal
person,'' he says, " may be the object of imitation ; but
those who imitate can only approach the model according
to the talents which nature has given them. No man can
possess all the qualities, or attain to the whole perfection
of the model ; he must in some one respect be deficient.
His knowledge and capacity of research, his acquaintance
with human character, his insinuating or commanding
language, or his eloquent appeal to the heart, his coun-
tenance and expression, his voice, manner, gesture,
cannot be all equally balanced so as to constitute the
perfect orator." And he illustrates his position by the
example of Phidias, who, when he made the statue of
Jupiter and Minerva, took no individual for his model,
but had an idea of perfection in his own mind.*

* In the following quotation, Brutus has asked Cicero what
constitutes excellence in oratory. He answers, that no man has
been perfect; that there is an ideal perfection which we should
attempt to attain, nor resign the effort because to accomplish all
is impossible ; just as there is nothing beautiful which may not
in imagination be surpassed : —

" Sed ego sic statuo, nihil esse in ullo genere tarn pulchrum, quo
non pulchrios id sit, unde illud, ut ex ore aliquo, quasi imago, ex-
primatur, quod neque oculis, neque auribus, neque ullo sensu percipi

THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY.

Gl

Here I conceive is the source and the authority for
all which has been written on this view of the subject.
The great artist had formed a conception of beauty:
the question perpetually returns, P>y what studies, by
what theory, had he attained this ? The perplexity
appears to me to proceed from a distinction being made
between the pleasures of the mind, and those addressed
to the senses. Plautus says that the poet seeks what
nowhere exists, and yet finds it. His genius supplies
it, it is in his mind.

The novelist who has genius to catch and to re-
present the feelings of men, and their motives to
action, may give a truer picture of his period than the
historian, even although he describes what never existed.
That is to say, the incidents, the passions, the prejudices,
which he describes, may never have been combined as
he combines them ; but they are true to nature, and to
the state of society in which he lives, and are, therefore,
a record of the time. But this is not the rationale of
the ideal in painting.

Or we may illustrate this in another manner. W hen
Zeuxis was employed on his Helen, five of the most
beautiful women were before him, from whom he com-
posed his perfect beauty. But it was not the object of
the artist here to produce ideal beauty, or to give that
repose of sentiment which is the effect of contemplating

potest; cogitatione tantum et mente complect I mur. Itaque et
Piii iise simulacris, quibus nihil in illo gen ere perfectius videmus,
et his picturis, quas nominavi, cogitare tamen possuraus pulchriora.
Nec vero ille artifex, cum faceret Jovis form am, aut Miner vse, con-
templabatur aliquem, e quo similitudinem duceret: sed ipsius in
mente insidebat species pulchritudinis eximiaqusedam,quam intuens,
in eaque defixus, ad illius similitudinem artem et manum dirigebat.
Ut igitur in formis et figuris est aliquid perfectum et excel! ens,
cujus ad cagitatam speciem imitando referuntur ea quae sub oculis
ipsa cadunt : sic perfects} eloquentia? speciem animo videmus,
effigiem auribus quaerimus. ' — Cickro de Oratore, cap. 2.

62

THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY,

the Medicean Venus ; his aim was to represent a beau-
tiful and seductive woman, whose charms were to lead
men to extravagance. And why have not painters with
the same means attained to the same perfection ? It
has been answered — Because they have not had the same
genius. On which M. Quatremere de Quincy observes,
" What, then, is a model, if genius be still necessary
in order to imitate it ? Who shall tell whether it is
the model that causes genius to see the image of beauty :
or, genius that sees its own idea in the model? " *

There has been another theory advanced, that, in the
antique statue there is presented to us the grandeur
of form and the proportions of man, as he originally
proceeded from the Creator : such as he was designed
to be before he was subjected to labour, poverty, and
sickness.

But in the early times of all people, their gods have
been represented by the trunks of trees, or pillars rudely
carved ; and, when improved, it has been by imitating
the human form with simplicity. At first, the head
was carved as on a pedestal ; then the neck, breast, and
shoulders, and the indication of sex ; then the arms and
the extremities were imperfectly blocked out, until, at
length, and after ages had passed, the members were
displayed free, and the figure perfected in manly
beauty.

I shall once more endeavour to analyse that process
of thought by which, out of the contemplation of nature,
ideal perfection is derived. The idea of the divine form

* The same author thus expresses himself : " In this we have
the enigma of Plautus solved; in every art, whatever comes within
the scope of the understanding, of sentiment, and of genius, does
net really exist anywhere; has neither substance nor piace, and is
subjected to no one of the senses, while he who finds it is unable to
point nut where he has seen the model of it."

Tliis is language which puffs up the young artist to inordinate
conceit : and, instead of studying, sets hin^ a dreaming of something
for which he is to be beholden to his innate genius.

THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY.

63

in the mind of any man, whatever may be his genius,
lias been acquired, and is of human origin ; and the
attempts of all painters and sculptors to embody the
idea in their works, evince that such is the case. That
a man of genius has an idea of perfection cannot be
the result of pure imagination. Whatever conceptions
he may entertain must have been acquired ; and the
question returns, How? Let us suppose a painter to
have before him the three Graces ; their perfections
are not the same ; for to have full influence on the
heart, we know that, however beautiful, each must be
individual ; that the form, the attitude, and the ex-
pression must be varied, or the interest and grace are
injured. The attempt of the painter to combine what
is beautiful in each, into one more perfect, would, in
my opinion, fail ; nature would be lost, and the whole
prove inconsistent. At all events, the combination of
individual human beauty, however made, and with
whatever exercise of genius contrived, would not pro-
duce what is aimed at, — ideal beauty, as exhibited in
the remains of antiquity ; a form which we acknow-
ledge to be beautiful, but which has had no existence
in life or in models.

With the view of attaining beauty, the artist is not
to slight nature or to avoid it, but to study it deeply,
as the only source of improvement. He must not only
contemplate those beauties which we may suppose to
stand before him, but consider where they differ from
others less admirable. How beautiful that smile!
Eow eloquent those lips ! Let him ask himself in what
this consists. Smiling and speech are characteristic of
man, and are bestowed to express the affections of the
heart, and communicate thought. Give to the mouth
the capacity for these. Observe the forehead, and the
defined eyebrow : — WThat is there in nature superior ?

64

THEORIES OF IDEAL BEAUTY.

Let him mark them, and then raise and throw forward
the forehead, a feature especially human, and elevating
to the countenance. Now he sees that depth is given
to the eye ; that the shadows fall with bold relief, the
eyebrow acquires more freedom, stands in a finer arch,
and is more expressive of agreeable emotions. And
thus he passes from point to point ; from one feature
to another, — the nose, the ear : exaggerating a little
the outline of whatever indicates the higher and purer
qualities, and avoiding what is low, or whatever is
associated with the baser human passions or with the
form of the brutes ; and by insensible gradations, and
long contemplation of what is highest and best, he
acquires, and from nature, that idea which is, in his
mind, the perfection of form.

Supposing that a painter so tutored is set with his
fellows to copy a model ; by his knowledge of what
constitutes humanity in its most perfect condition, and
of what is indicative of human sentiment, he is enabled
to elevate his design ; and then it is acknowledged
that, whilst he has preserved the likeness, he has refined
it, and has introduced something of the purity of the
antique.

Although 1 have taken the form of the head and the
features for illustration, the principle is applicable to
the whole figure. In comparing the finer forms of
antique statues with those of the Athlete, Lapithas,
and Fauns, down to the brutes, we see that the grace,
the repose, and the nobler attitudes of the human body,
are preserved in the former, to the exclusion of what-
ever belongs to individual character, or partakes, by
association, of what is mean in condition.

The Satyr and Faun are as mules and hybrids ; the
man and the brute are joined ; sometimes wdth the
horns and the hoofs, sometimes with nothing more dis-
tinctive than the tail; and the conception is fulfilled

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES.

65

by the grossness of form, the muscular development
and the proportions indicative of activity. But there
is neither freedom nor grace of movement in the position
of the body or limbs, nor in their proportions or contour.
In short, we have the Apollo and Marsyas exhibiting
a perfect contrast, and shewing that which is charac-
teristic in the one reversed in the other.

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IX THE FORM OF THE HEAD.

Sir David V\ ilkie, whose loss we have had so lately
to deplore, was one of my earliest pupils, having at-
tended a course of my lectures on anatomy, as connected
with design. On returning from the Continent in
August, 1840, I found him preparing for a journey ;
and he made me guess whither he was going. To
Rome? — no. To Greece?— no. Surely not to court
fortune in India ? — no. He was setting off to the Holy

F

66

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN

Land, to study there an Eastern people. In this, he
displayed that energy which ever accompanies genius.
How much of character, in feature and costume, would
he not have thrown into his future pictures ! Here we
have a lesson from one entitled to sway our opinion on
his art, of the importance of a knowledge of national
forms to the historical painter. It is for this reason
that I introduce a slight account of the varieties of the
human head, depending on national peculiarities. It
may assist the artist in the study of such natives of
foreign countries as he may chance to meet with.

Even in the most admired productions of art, I find
little to which I can refer for elucidating this subject.
Sculptors and painters have been too commonly content
to characterize an inhabitant of the East by a tu^t of
hair on his crown ; or an African, by a swarthy face.
There is a late publication that illustrates the question
of national peculiarities in a very interesting way,— a
folio volume which contains accurate portraits of the
skulls of all the American races, from the old inhabi-
tants of Mexico and Peru to those of the farthest north.*

In considering the extraordinary collection of skulls
in this work, with the view of marking the relation
between the form of the head and superiority of mind,
in men of cultivated intellect, as contrasted with those
leading a savage life, it must be acknowledged that
much is wanting. Although there can be no objection
to the mode adopted by the writer of estimating the
actual mass of brain; yet his measurements ought to
have been made in reference to the dimensions of the
whole body. The size of the cranium, and consequently,
the volume of the brain, must be relative to the face ;
and the face can be taken only as an imperfect index
of the entire skeleton. If the cavity of the skull is to

* " Crania Americana," by Dr. Morton, Professor of Anatomy in
Pennsylvania College.

THE FORM OF THE HEAD.

67

l>e gauged, — if the quantity of sand or of seeds, wliich
different crania are capable of containing, is to be
measured, the comparison will not be satisfactory, un-
less the measurement of each be contrasted with that
of the face and of the body ; and be also examined
with respect to the proportions of the brain itself, or
its form.

Again, it is taken for granted, that we who exercise
our best faculties within the four walls of a house, must
have a development of brain beyond what the free-
dweller in the plains or forests of, what is termed, a
new country can possess. I believe, on the contrary,
that man, in his state of nature, has imposed upon him
the necessity of bringing into operation quite as many
faculties of mind as the man at his desk ; and that,
from the brain being exercised in every use to which
the external senses are put, its volume is not inferior
to that of the individual in civilised life. We must
take along with us this consideration, that the exercise
of our external senses infers an accompanying activity
of the brain : that of the nervous apparatus appro-
priated to the senses, it is the exterioi part alone that
is given to the eye, ear, nose, tongue : the internal part,
forming the sensorium, is in the brain. Eemembering
this, and that the powers exercised by the savage are
not instincts, as in the brutes, but operations of the
mind calling the brain into action, T am unwilling to
grant that any measurable deficiency in its mass, as a
whole, is likely to be perceived. Were it really so, we
should find the gamekeeper inferior to his master in a
greater degree than my experience warrants.

Every one must have observed among; those with whom
he lives, that there is as nuch variety in feature, stature,
;olour hair, beard, &c, as there is in expression of
countenance ■ and a very little philosophy will indicate
the necessity of such varieties, for the constitution of

F 2

68

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN

society. But in regard to national peculiarities, al-
though the distinctions between individuals of a par-
ticular country are, doubtless, in many instances as
great as between the people of one country compared
with another ; yet there are certain forms of head, or
casts of feature, or peculiarities of hair, and com-
plexion, which characterize different nations.

We need not here enter into the question, how these
distinctions have been produced. It would require much
critical examination to decide whether national pecu-
liarities of form are owing to an original provision, by
which the structure changes, and acquires distinctive
characters under the influence of circumstances — such as
of the various climates to which the first families were
exposed, on their dispersion from one centre ; or whether
there are truly distinct races which had a conformation
and constitution from the beginning, suited to the
regions for which they were destined, and to which
they were blindly driven.

All testimony agrees in shewing that mankind was
first planted in Western Asia ; there, in the valle}^s, per-
petual su mmer reigns ; there the vegetable productions
best suited to man's nourishment are most abundant :
there are the animals, in a state of nature, which are led
by their instincts to yield themselves up to his use — the
horse, the ass, the cow, the sheep, the goat, the camel,
the dog ; and there the climate is so favourable to the
human constitution, that even now we look to these
countries for examples of perfection, both in feature
and colour, of man himself.

From this part of the globe, the varieties of man
distinguished as to exterior form and complexion, may
be traced divergingly : to this point the sciences and
arts may be followed back; and the study of the
derivation of tongues, and of the grammatical con-
struction of languages, does not negative the conclusion,

THE FORM OF THE HEAD.

69

but rather indicates that this part of the earth was the
centre from which the nations spread.

The grouping of mankind into races has occupied
the ingenuity of many naturalists and physiologists,
from the time of BufFon and Linnaeus to the present
day ; but we rest principally on the authority of
Blumenbach. In the valleys of the Caucasus, between
the Black Sea and the Caspian, we may distinguish,
in the Caucasian family, those features which, according
to the views just presented, we should say were the
nearest to perfection. The skull is large and fully
developed in front; the face is small, and the features
well proportioned ; the forehead is elevated ; the nose
arched, or raised ; the teeth perpendicular in their
sockets ; the chin round, and the lips full of expression ;
the skin fair ; the eyes dark ; the eyebrows arched ;
the eyelashes long ; and the hair varied in coloui.
The Circassians have long been noted for the beauty
of the women, and for the imposing stature, elegance,
and activity of the men : and the Georgians and other
tribes are remarkable for personal beauty.

From this centre, proceeding westward, we recognise
the Europeans. The original inhabitants of Thessaly
and Greece are designated as the Pelasgic branch :
that enterprising and migratory people, who at an early
period extended to Italy, and from whom descended the
Etruscans. The Hellenes, or Greeks, receiving letters
from the Phoenicians, surpassed all the nations of
antiquity, in philosophy, literature, and art. The
Greek face is a fine oval ; the forehead full, and carried
forward ; the eyes large ; the nose straight ; the lips
and chin finely formed : in short, the forms of the
head and face have been the type of the antique, and
of all which we most admire. The modern Greeks
are still distinguished by athletic proportions and fine
features.

70

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN

The Roman head differs from the Greek, in having
a more arched forehead, a nose more aquiline, and
features altogether of a more decided character; and
this is even apparent in the busts of that people, as
exhibited in the two splendid volumes of Visconti.
The remarks of Bishop Wiseman on this subject are
important, as his lectures were delivered in Rome, and
to persons who had only to step out of the college to
ascertain their accuracy. Travellers have often stated
that the countenances of the population beyond the
Tiber exactly resemble those of the Roman soldiers
on the column of Trajan ; but Dr. Wiseman observes
correctly, that any one slightly acquainted with art,
will sGon be satisfied that the model on these historical
monuments is really Grecian, and can give no aid
in ascertaining the physiognomy of the ancient in-
habitants of Italy. He bids us look to the busts
and reclining statues of the ancient Romans, carved
on the sarcophagi, or to the series of imperial busts in
the Capitol, where we shall discover the true type of
the national figure, viz., a large, flat head, a low and
wide forehead, a face broad and square, a short and
thick neck, and a stout and broad trunk : proportions
totally at variance with what are generally considered
to be those of the ancient Roman. Nor have we to go
far, if in Rome, to find their descendants ; they are
to be met with every day in the streets, principally
among the burgesses or middle class.*

* " For my part, I looked for the type of the Eoman soldier
among the Galleotti. There was a body of these condemned
men chained together, who where marched every evening from
their work of rebuilding the great basilica of St. Paul's, beyond
the walls. This church, which was burnt, stands some way out
of Rome, and I walked beside and behind these bands ; and finer
figures are not to by conceived ; their loose dress, and the gyves
upon their legs, gave to their air and attitude something formid-
able. They seemed fit for the offices of a tyrant, and to subdue
die world. I must ever remember one evening, when I saw these

THL FORM OF THE HEAD

71

The German race has been spread, from east to
west, over a great part of Europe, blending with the
Celts. It is separated into the Teutonic and Sclavonian
families; their military enterprises form the history
of the darker ages, when they came down upon the
Roman empire. Other hordes mingled with the
Tartars ; and are recognised in history, as the people
who broke in upon the Persian and the Eoman empires
in the east. The Celtic Gaul of the Romans gave
residence to a race, which is now diminished to the
remnant living in the mountainous districts of the
extreme west of Europe.

The Mongolian Tartars occupy great part of the
north of Asia and Europe. The eyelids of this people
are oblique, the nose is small and flat, broad towards the
forehead ; the cheek-bones are high, the chin short,
and the lips large and thick ; the ears are flat and
square ; the general form of the head round. The
Mongol Tartar tribes have become mixed with the
neighbouring nations, and exhibit a variety of physio-
gnomy. Hordes of this people invaded China, and
settling in the north of that great empire have blended
with the original Chinese.

To the north-west, they mingled with the polar
races, and have merged in the Kamschatkans and
Tungusians ; the Huns, whose incursions into more
civilised Europe are recorded in history, were Mongol
Tartars. The primitive Turks were also of the same

men, with their mounted guards, passing under the Arch of Titus,
and the broad shadow of the Colosseum. Dr. Wiseman says, in
regard to the sculptures on that arch, that the profiles of 'Aie
soldiers shew that there was a rule, or model, adapted to the
common men, and from which the artist might not depart ; while
the figure of the emperor, seated in his chariot, forms a strong
contrast to them. Though his features are now quite effaced,
enough remains of the outline to shew the full, heavy face, aud
bulky head of a true Roman." — Notes from Journal.

72

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN

race ; but, by overrunning Circassia, Georgia, Greece,
and Arabia, their physical character has been changed,
and they have become a handsome people. The open
nostril and short nose, which mark the Turkish coun-
tenance, still betray their original extraction; their
eyes are dark and animated, and the whole face is ex-
pressive and intelligent.

The Chinese skull is oblong, the frontal bone narrow
in proportion to the width of the bones of the face.
Accordingly the countenance is flat, and the cheeks
expanded ; the eyelids are not freely open, and are
drawn obliquely up towards the temples ; the eyebrows
are black and highly arched ; the nose is small and
flattened, with a marked depression separating it from
the forehead; the hair is black, and the complexion
sallow.

The Malay race is scattered through the Indian
Islands, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, Amboyna, Celebes, the
Philippines, Moluccas. The forehead, in the Malay, is
prominent and arched, but low ; the orbits oblique and
oblong ; the nasal bones broad and flattened ; the
cheek-bones high and expanded ; the jaws projecting.
The head is, altogether, large ; the mouth and the lips
protrude; the nose is short, depressed, and flattened
towards the nostrils ; the eyes are small and oblique.
They are of a brown complexion, varying in the dif-
ferent tribes.

Some uncertainty prevails as to the race to which
the ancient Egyptians belonged. This has arisen from
the difficulty of reconciling the early and extensive
knowledge of that people, with the acknowledged de-
ficiency of capacity in the Negro. We might expect
that the mummies and drawings in their pyramids and
tombs should have long since decided the question ;
but the position of Egypt may account for the obscurity.
Being on the confines of two great continents, the

THE FORM OF THE HEAD.

73

Egyptians became early a mixed people. The skull
is found to be well formed, and unlike that of the
Ethiopian. The probability is, that the Negro was
then, as now, a subjugated race.*

The Greek applied the terms Ethiop and Indian to
all the dark people of the south. By Ethiopian, we
now correctly understand the different races which
inhabit the interior of Africa; extending from the
south of Mount Atlas and Abyssinia to the country of
the Cafifres and Hottentots.

The general character of the Negro countenance
is familiar to us. Of the great antiquity of the race
there can be no doubt. When, indeed, the effigy of the
Negro is found depicted on the ancient walls of Egypt,
and vessels are dug up, the characters on which are
read by modern Chinese, we may well despair of obtain-
ing anything like a satisfactory history of the spread
of nations, and the settlement of mankind in the
different regions of the globe. The depression of the
forehead and compression of the temples, which are
distinctive of the Africans, although there be splendid
examples of fine form among the nations of that con-
tinent, mark them as a degraded race.f

Diverging still from the presumed central origin of

* Blumenbach thinks that he can discover among the mummies
the heads of the Ethiopian, the Indian, and the Besbers. Deuon
conceives that the female mummies indicate that the women of
ancient Egypt had great beauty.

f The great families of mankind are distinguished by colour as
well as form and features. The Caucasian by white ; the African
by black ; the Mongolian by olive, tending to yellow ; the Malay
by tawny ; the American by brown, or nearly copper hue. The
colour of the hair, and that of the iris partake of the colour of the
skin. The Caucasian, with fair complexion, has red, brown, or light-
coloured hair, and the eyes of different shades of grey and blue.
In those of darker complexion, the hair is black and the eyes dark.
In the Mongol, the hair is thin, stiff, and stra'ght In the Euro,
pean, soft, flexible, and flowing. In the Negro, thick- et, string,
short, and curly. But in all races there spring up occasional
varieties.

74

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES IN

mankind, we find the Polynesian family in the islands
of the Pacific Ocean. The inhabitants of these isles
aie of middle stature, athletic, with heavy limbs.
Their faces are round or delicately oval ; the nose is
well formed, straight or aquiline, sometimes spread
out, but not having the flatness of the Negro ; the fore-
head is low, but not receding ; the eyes black, bright,
and expressive ; the lips full, and the teeth fine.*

In America, the same difficulties present themselves
in relation to the origin and propagation of races as
in the Old World. The most recent inquiries authorise
the distinction of two families inhabiting America :
first, a race called Toltecan, belonging originally to
Mexico and Peru, which, from the shapes of the skulls
found in the graves, and the accompanying relics, give-
evidence of greater civilisation than belongs to the
present natives ; and secondly, a people which extending
over the greater portion of the vast continent, embraces
all the barbarous nations of the New World, except-
ing the polar tribes, or Mongolian Americans, which
are presumed to be straggling parties from Asia, such
as the Esquimaux, Greenlanders, and Fins.

In the native American, there is no trace of the
frizzled locks of the Polynesian or the woolly texture
on the head of the Negro. The hair is long, lank,
and black ; the beard is deficient ; the cheek-bones are
large and prominent ; the lower jaw broad and ponderous,
truncated in front ; the teeth vertical and very large ;
the nose is decidedly arched, and the nasal cavities of
great size. They ought not to be called the copper-
coloured race. The colour is brown, or of a cinnamon
tint. As in the Old World, the colour varies, and

* It is amusing to find voyagers making distinctions here be-
tween the plebeian and the aristocratic classes. But so it is every-
where. Among the Lybians and Moors, as in the countries of Asia
and Europe, the comforts and luxuries of life improve the phy-
sical condition of man.

THE FORM OF THE HEAD.

75

the darkness does not always correspond to the climate
or vicinity to the equator.

Of the imperfect sketch of the varieties of mankind
which I have here presented, every sentence might be
the text of a long essay. But in this, as in the whole
volume, I have attempted only to awaken attention,
and to make the reader an observer of what may
pass before him ; giving him the elements on which
his ingenuity or acumen is to be employed in his inter-
course with society.

( 76 )

ESSAY III.

ON THOSE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION IN THE HUMAN COUNTE
NANCE WHICH CANNOT BE EXPLAIN P:D ON THE IDEA Of
A DIRECT INFLUENCE OF THE MIND UPON THE FEATURES.

" The heart of a man changeth his countenance, whether for
good or evil." — The Son of Sirach.

" I do believe thee ;
I saw his heart in his face." — Shakspeare.

In the human countenance, under the influence of
passion, there are characters expressed, and changes
of features produced, which it is impossible to explain
on the notion of a direct operation of the mind upon the
features. Ignorance of the source of these changes of
the features, or inattention to the cause which produces
them, has thrown an obscurity over the whole of this
subject, which it is my wish to remove.

If, in the examination of the sources of expression,
it should be found that the mind is dependent on the
frame of the body, the discovery ought not to 1*. con-
sidered as humiliating, or as affecting the belief of
a separate existence of that part of our nature on
which the changes wrought in the body are ultimately
impressed. Since we are dwellers in a material world,
it is necessary that the spirit should be connected with
it by an organised body, without which it could neither
feel nor re-act, nor manifest itself in any ivay. It
ifi a fundamental law of our nature that the mind shall

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

77

have its powers developed through the influence of
the "body ; that the organs of the body shall be the
links in the chain of relation between it and tho
material world, through which the immaterial principle
within shall be affected.

As the Creator has established this connexion between
the mind and external nature, so has He implanted,
or caused to be generated, in us, various higher in-
tellectual faculties. In every intelligent being He has
laid the foundation of emotions that point to Him,
affections by which we are drawn to Him, and which
rest in Him as their object. In the mind of the rudest
slave, left to the education of the mere elements around
him, sentiments arise which lead him to a Parent and
a Creator. These feelings spring up spontaneously ;
they are universal, and not to be shaken off ; and no
better example than this can be given of the adapta-
tion of the mind to the various relations in which man
is placed, or one that tends more to raise in us a con-
ception of the Author of our being, and increase our
estimation of ourselves, as allied to Him.

This it is, perhaps, necessary to premise, when I am
about to prove the extensive influence of the corporeal
on the intellectual part of man.

In examining the phenomena of the mind, philo-
sophers have too much overlooked this relation between
the mental operations and the condition of the bodily
frame. It appears to me that the frame of the body,
exclusive of the special organs of seeing, hearing, &c, h
a complex organ, I shall not say of sense, but which
ministers, like the external senses, to the mind ; that
is to say, as the organs of the five senses serve to furnish
ideas of matter, the framework of the body contributes, in
certain conditions, to develop various states of the mind.*

* But since the brain doth lodge the powers of sense,
How makes it in the heart those passions spring ? — Davies,

78

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

In the affections which we call passions or emotions,
there is an influence which points to the breast as the
part where they are felt. Some have asserted that they
are seated in the bowels ; and the sensations I am about
to describe have been arrayed as proofs that the affec-
tions exist in the body. But that, I affirm, is im-
possible. They are conditions of the mind, and cannot
be seated in the body, although they both influence
and are influenced by it.

We have learned enough to know that the impres-
sions communicated by the external organs of sense
belong really to the mind ; and there can be no doubt
that there is a mutual influence exercised by the mind
and frame on each other. This is not asserted on the
mere grounds that each affection which is deeply felt,
is accompanied by a disturbance in our breast ; nor on
the language of mankind, which gives universal assent
to this proposition ; but it may be proved by circum-
stances of expression, in which we cannot be deceived.
I shall make it manifest that what the eye, the ear, or
the finger, is to the mind, as exciting those ideas which
have been appointed to correspond with the qualities of
the material world, the organs of the breast are to the
development of our affections ; and that without them
we might see, hear, and smell, but we should walk the
earth coldly indifferent to all emotions which may be
said in an especial manner to animate us, and give in-
terest and grace to human thoughts and actions.

By emotions are meant certain changes or affections

the mind, as grief, joy, astonishment. That such
states or conditions of the mind should in any degree
pertain to the body, may not, perhaps, be willingly
admitted, unless we take along with us that the ideas
of sense, as light, sound, or taste, are generated by the
organs of the senses, and not by any thing received and
oonvoyed by them to the sensorium. It is ascertained

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPKESSIOK.

79

that the different organs of the senses can be exercised*
and give rise to sensation and perception, when there
is no corresponding outward impression ; and the ideas
thus excited are according to the organ struck or agi-
tated : that is, the same impression conveyed to different
organs of sense will give rise to a variety of sensations ;
as light, when the eye is struck ; sound, when the ear
is struck ; and so on with the other organs ; the sen-
sation corresponding with the organ which is exercised,
and not with the cause of the impression. A needle
passed through, the retina, the organ of vision, will
produce the sensation of a spark of fire, not of sharp-
ness, or pain ; and the same needle, if applied to the
papillae of the tongue, will give rise to the sense of
taste ; while if it prick the skin, pain will follow. This
law of the senses is arbitrarily or divinely ordered ; it
might have been otherwise. Accordingly, when we
observe that the organs of the senses operate in pro-
ducing specific ideas, independently of their own pecu-
liar exciting causes, we can comprehend better how
other organs of the body may have a relation established
with the mind, and a control over it, without reference
to outward impressions.

Let us consider the heart, in its office of receiving the
influence of the mind, and of reflecting that influence.

It may, in the first place, be observed, that there is
hardly an organ of the body limited to one function : all
are complex in their operation. How many offices, for
example, are performed by the lungs ? It is a singular
fact in the history of physiological opinions, that the
heart, an organ the most susceptible of being excited
by the agitations or derangements of the body, should
have been considered at one time as insensible. And
yet in one sense it is true that it is so. To actual touch
the heart is insensible, as was exhibited to the illus-
trious Harvey, in the person of a young nobleman,

80

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION".

who had the heart exposed by disease. This single
circumstance, had there been no other evidence, should
have earlier directed physiologists to a correct view of
the matter, from its proving that the internal organs
are affected and united by sensibilities which are al-
together different in kind from those bestowed upon
the skin. The sensibility of the external surface of the
body is a special endowment adapted to the elements
around and calculated to protect the interior parts from
injury. But though the heart has not this common
sense of touch, yet it has an appropriate sensibility, by
which it is held united in the closest connexion and
sympathy with the other vital organs ; so that it par-
ticipates in all the changes of the general system of
the body.

But connected with the heart, and depending on its
peculiar and excessive sensibility, there is an extensive
apparatus which demands our attention. This is the
organ of breathing : a part known obviously as the
instrument of speech ; but which I shall show to be
more. The organ of breathing, in its association with
the heart, is the instrument of expression, and is the
part of the frame, by the action of which the emotions
are developed and made visible to us. Certain strong
feelings of the mind produce a disturbed condition of
the heart ; and through that corporeal influence, directly
from the heart, indirectly from the mind, the extensive
apparatus constituting the organ of breathing is put
in motion and gives us the outward signs which we
call expression. The man was wrong who found fault
with nature for not placing a window before the heart,
in order to render visible human thoughts and intentions.
There is, in truth, provision made in the countenance
and outward bearing for such discoveries.

One, ignorant of the grounds on which these opinions
are founded, has said, u Every strong emotion is directed

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

8]

towards the heart ; the heart experiences various kinds
of sensation, pleasant or unpleasant, over which, it has
no control ; and from thence the agitated spirits are
diffused over the body." The fact is certainly so,
although the language be figurative. How are these
spirits diffused, and what are their effects ?

We find that the influence of the heart upon tho
extended organ of respiration has sway at so early a
period of our existence, that we must acknowledge that
the operation or play of the instrument of expression
precedes the mental emotions with which they are to
be joined, accompanies them in their first dawn,
strengthens them, and directs them. So that it is
not, perhaps, too much to conclude that, from these
organs moving in sympathy with the mind, the same
uniformity is produced among men, in their internal
feelings, emotions, or passions, as there exists in their
ideas of external nature from the uniform operations of
the organs of sense.

Let us place examples before us, and then try whether
the received doctrines of the passions will furnish us
with an explanation of the phenomena, or whether we
must go deeper, and seek the assistance of anatomy.

In the expression of the passions, there is a compound
influence in operation. Let us contemplate the appear-
ance of terror. We can readily conceive why a man
stands with eyes intently fixed on the object of his
fears, the eyebrows elevated to the utmost, and the eye
largely uncovered ; or why, with hesitating and bewil-
dered steps, his eyes are rapidly and wildly in search
of something. In this, we only perceive the intent
application of his mind to the object of his appro-
hensions— its direct influence on the outward organ.
But observe him further : there is a spasm on his
breast, he cannot breathe freely, the chest is elevated,
the muscles of his neck and shoulders are in action, hi&

Gr

82

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

breathing is short and rapid, there is a gasping and a
convulsive motion of his lips, a tremor on his hollow
cheek, a gulping and catching of his throat ; and why
does his heart knock at his ribs, while yet there is
no force of circulation? — for his lips and cheeks are
ashy pale.

So in grief, if we attend to the same cla^s of phe-
nomena, we shall be able to draw an exact picture.
Let us imagine to ourselves the overwhelming influence
of grief on woman. The object in her mind has ab-
sorbed all the powers of the frame, the body is no more
regarded, the spirits have left it, it reclines, and the
limbs gravitate ; they are nerveless and relaxed, and
she scarcely breathes ; but why comes at intervals the
long-drawn sigh9 — why are the neck and throat con-
vulsed?— what causes the swelling and quivering of the
lips, and the deadly paleness of the face ? — or why is the
hand so pale and earthly cold ? — and why, at intervals,
as the agony returns, does the convulsion spread over
the frame like a paroxysm of suffocation ?

It must, I think, be acknowledged, when we come to
arrange these phenomena, these outward signs of the
passions, that they cannot proceed from the direct in-
fluence of the mind alone. However strange it may
sound to unaccustomed ears, it is to the heart and
lungs, and all the extended instrument of breathing,
that we are to trace these effects.

Over such motions of the body the mind has an
unequal control. By a strong effort the outward
tokens may be restrained, at least in regard to the
general bearing of the body ; but who, while suffering,
can retain the natural fulness of his features, or the
healthful colour of his cheek, the unembarrassed res-
piration and clearness of the natural voice ? The
villain may command his voice, and mask his purpose
with light and libertine words, or carry an habitua]

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

83

sneer of contempt of all softer passions; but his un-
natural paleness, and the sinking of his features, will
betray that he suffers. Clarence says to his murderers,

" How deadly dost thou speak !
Your eyes do menace me : Why look you pale ? " *

But the just feelings of mankind demand respect,
men will not have the violence of grief obtruded on
them. To preserve the dignity of his character, the
actor must permit those uncontrollable signs of suffer-
ing alone to escape, which betray how much he feels,
and how much he restrains.

Even while asleep, these interior organs of feeling
will prevail and disclose the source of expression. Has
my reader seen Mrs. Siddons in Queen Katherine during
that solemn scene where the sad note was played which
she named her knell ? Who taught the crowd sitting
at a play, an audience differing in age, habits, and
education, to believe those quivering motions, and that
gentle smile, and those slight convulsive twitchings, to
be true to nature ? To see every one hushed to the
softest breathing of sympathy with the silent expres-
sion of the actress, exhibits all mankind held together
by one universal feeling : and that feeling, excited by
expression, so deeply laid in our nature, as to have
influence, without being obvious to reason.

To illustrate this curious subject, I shall first explain
the extensive connexions which are established betwixt
the great organs that sustain life and the muscular
system of the face, neck, and chest. I shall then shew
that the functions of these organs are affected by
passions of the mind. I shall prove that this connexion
subsists at the moment of birth, and accompanies us
through life ; and, finally, that from this source are

* " And troubled blood through his pale face was seen
To come and go. with tidings from his heart." — Faery Queciz.

G 2

84

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

derived those obscure indications of emotion in tho
countenance and general frame, which cannot be ex-
plained on the supposition of a direct influence of the
mind on the muscles of expression.

The heart and the lungs may be safely taken as two
parts which are combined in the same function. The
action of the heart, and the motion of the lungs, are
equally necessary to the circulation of that blood which
is fitted for the supply of the body ; and the inter-
ruption of their motions threatens life. Accordingly,
these two organs are united by nerves, and consequently
by the closest sympathy ; and in all the variations to
which they are liable, they are still found to correspond,
the accelerated action of the one being directly followed
by the excitement of the other.

The motion of the lungs proceeds from a force
altogether external to them : they themselves are
passive, being moved by a very great number of
muscles which lie upon the breast, back, and neck ;
that is, the exterior muscles give play to the ribs,
and the lungs follow the motions of the chest. The
heart and lungs, though insensible to common im-
pression, yet being acutely alive to their proper
stimulus, suffer from the slightest change of posture
or exertion of the frame, and also from the changes
or affections of the mind. The impression thus made
on these internal organs is not visible by its effect
upon tnem, but on the external and remote muscles,
associated with them. This law exists in all man-
kind ; we see the consequence in those susceptible and
nervous persons, whom the mere change of position, or
the effort of rising, or the slightest emotion * f mind,
flutters and agitates. But it is when the strong are
subdued by this mysterious union of soul and body,
when passion tears the breast, that the most afflicting
picture of human frailty is presented, and the surest

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

85

proof afforded, that it is on the respiratory organs that
the influence of passion falls with so powerful an ex-
pression of agony.

The next circumstance of this detail to which I beg
attention, is the extent of the actions of respiration :
the remoteness of the parts agitated in sympathy with
the heart. The act of respiration is not limited to the
trunk ; the actions of certain muscles of the windpipe,
the throat, the lips, the nostrils, are necessary to expand
those tubes and openings, so that the air may be ad-
mitted through them in respiration, with a freedom
corresponding with the increased action of the chest.
Without this, the sides of these pliant tubes would fall
together, and we should be suffocated by exertion or
passion. Let us consider how many muscles are combined
in the simple act of breathing — how many are added in
the act of coughing — how these are changed and modified
in sneezing ; — let us reflect on the various combinations
of muscles of the throat, windpipe, tongue, lips, in
speaking and singing, and we shall be able justly to es-
timate the extent of the muscles which are associated
with the proper or simple act of dilating and compressing
the chest. But how much more numerous are the changes
wrought upon these muscles, when nature employs them
in the double capacity of communicating our thoughts
and feelings ; not in the language of sounds merely, but
in the language of expression in the countenance also :
for certainly the one is as much their office as the othei

The nervous system is complex in an extraordinary
degree ; but the reader may not be deterred from
attempting to understand at least so much, that there
is a class of nerves appropriated to respiration. These
nerves arise from the same part of the brain ; the great
central nerve descends into the chest, to be distributed
to the heart and lungs ; and the others extend to the
exterior muscles of the chest, neck, and face. Unde*

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

the influence of the central nerve, the diverging ex-
ternal ones become the instruments of breathing and of
expression. The labour of many months discloses to
the anatomist but a part of these nervous cords : and
the consideration of the uses they serve presents the
most overwhelming proof of the excellence of design,
— but a design made manifest by the results, rather
than comprehensible in its means.

Can we perfectly understand how tickling the throat
should produce a convulsion over the whole frame,
in which a hundred muscles are finely adjusted and
proportioned in their actions to expel what irritates the
windpipe? or, how tickling the nostril should make a
change in these muscles, throw some out, and bring
others into action, to the effect of sending the air
through a different tube to remove what is offensive,
and all this without the act of the will.

Let us see how the machine works. Observe a man
threatened with suffocation : remark the sudden and
wild energy that pervades every feature ; the contrac-
tions of his throat, the gasping and the spasmodic
twitchings of his face, the heaving of his chest and
shoulders, and how he stretches his hands, and catches
like a drowning man. These are efforts made under
the oppressive, intolerable sensation at his heart ; and
the means which nature employs, to guard and preserve
the animal machine, giving to the vital organ a sensi-
bility that irresistibly excites to the utmost exertion.

It is this painful sensation that introduces us to
"this breathing world," which guards the vital func-
tions through life, as it draws us into existence. Pain
is the agent which most effectually rouses the dormant
faculties of both mind and body. While the child
slumbers in the womb it does not live by breathing,
it possesses an organ which performs the office of the
lungs. In the birth there is a short interval, betwixt

V

ON THE SOURCES OF EXPRESSION.

87

the loss of the one organ, and the substitution of the
other ; nor would the breath ever be drawn, or the lungs
perform their function, but for this painful and irresist-
ible nisus, which calls the whole corresponding muscles
into action. Spasms and contractions are seen to extend
over the infant's chest ; the features are working, and
the muscles of the face agitated, probably for the first
time : at last, air is admitted into the lungs, a feeble cry
is heard, the air in successive inspirations fully dilates
the chest, and the child cries lustily. Now the regu-
lar respiration is established, and the animal machinery
subsides into repose.

" We came crying hither.
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air
We wawl and cry : I will preach to thee : mark,
When we are born, we cry, that we are come
To this great stage of fools!" — Lear.

With the revolution which the whole economy has
undergone, new wants are engendered, new appetites ;
these are again lulled by the mother's breast. During
all this no one sympathises with the little sufferer :
the grimace with which he enters the world excites
only smiles.

" On parent's knees, a naked new-born child,
Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smiled —
So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep
Calm thou may'st smile, when all around thee weep."

From the Persian.

" Anger," says Lord Bacon, " is certainly a kind
of baseness, as it appears well in the weakness of
those subjects in whom it reigns — children, women,
old folks, sick folks." But this I may say, that anger is
at no period of life so strongly impressed upon human
features, as in the first moment of our visiting the light.
At the instant of our birth, an association of muscles
is formed, and at the same time put in operation

( 90 )

ESSAY IV.

OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE IN MAN.

The muscular part of the animal frame consists of a
peculiar fleshy substance, possessing the power of con-
traction, and, consequently, of producing motion. In
the limbs and trunk, the muscles are attached to the
bones, and are distinct and powerful : but as in the face
they have merely to operate on the skin, the lips, nostrils
and eyelids, they require less power, and are, therefore,
more delicate. And that power is not always directly
under the will, like the muscular exertions of the body
and limbs ; it is often involuntary, and is inseparably
united to the conditions or affections of the mind. The
latter consideration gives much interest to the subject ;
for, by this provision in the muscles, the very spirit by
which the body is animated, and the various emotions,
shine out in the countenance.

It has been said that the superiority of the human
face in expression is an accidental effect of the number
of muscles which are provided in man for the faculty of
speech. That many of the muscles called into action
in speech are also employed in expression will be
readily admitted ; but besides these, there are muscles
of the human features which have no connexion with
the voice, and are purely instrumental in expression.
Further, the human countenance is pre-eminent in
possessing, not only the muscles proper to man, but
also the peculiarities of two great classes of the lower
animals, having the muscles which are characteristic of
both these classes combined.

MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. 91

To understand what follows, it is not necessary for
the reader to know more of the structure of muscles
than that they are formed of distinct packets of fibres ;
that the extremities are called their origins and in-
sertions : the fixed extremity, attached generally to
some point of bone, being the origin ; the extremity
which is moved, the insertion. I shall consider the
muscles of the face in three groups. First, those
which surround the eye ; secondly, those which move
the nostrils ; and lastly, those around the mouth.

And first,

OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW.

The forehead is more than any other part charac-
teristic of the human countenance. It is the seat of
thought, a tablet where every emotion is distinctly
impressed ; and the eyebrow is the moveable type for
this fair page.

" Frons hominis tristitise, hilaritatis, dementias, severitatis,
index est." Pliny

The eye is the chief feature of expression. It takes
a thousand shades from the relations of the surrounding
parts ; and the eyebrow, that dark arch which sur-
mounts it, is itself an eloquent index of the mind.
Some one has called the eyebrow " the rainbow of peace,
or the bended bow of discord." *

There are four muscles attached to the eyebrow.

1. A muscle, called occipito frontalis (a), descends
over the forehead, and is inserted into the eyebrow,
where it mingles its fibres with the next muscle. The
simple action of the frontal portion of the occipito

* Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,
Fortels the nature of a tragic volume ;
So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood
Hath left a witnessed usurpation. — Shakspeare.

92 MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW.

frontalis is to raise or arch the eyebrow, as in surprise
or doubt ; or, as if we meant to say, " I must look
further into this."

2. The muscle which closes the eyelids, is the orbicu-
laris palpebrarum (b). We shall divide this muscle
into three parts. Its fibres surround the eye, being
spread in a circular direction upon the margin of the
orbit and the eyelids. The stronger portion, encircling
the orbit, shuts the eyelids with that spasmodic force
which is felt when something irritating is thrown

into the eye. The paler and more delicate fibres, which
lie more immediately upon the eyelids, gently close the
eye, as in winking, or in sleep. A third set of fibres is
situated directly on the margins of the eyelids.* It is
the outer and stronger circle which draws down the eye-
brow, and is the direct opponent of the occipito frontalis.

3. The third muscle (c), is properly a part of the
first, and is termed the descending slip of the occipito
frontalis. As it descends on the side of the nose to be
attached to the bridge, it has a different effect from the

* For the actions of these different portions of the general
muscle, see the author's " Practical Essays," Part I. on Squinting.

MUSCLES OF THE FOREHEAD AND EYEBROW. 93

greater part of the muscle : it draws down the inner
extremity of the eyebrow.

4. The next muscle is the corragator supercilii (d). It
arises from the lowest point of the frontal bone, where
it joins the bones of the nose, and running obliquely up-
wards, is inserted into the skin under the eyebrow.
The two muscles acting together knit the eyebrows.
These are the muscles of the forehead and eyebrows.

In the arched and polished forehead, terminated by
the distinct line of the eyebrow, there is an especial
capacity for indicating human thought. The lines drawn
here often give meaning of a high character to motions
of the features in the lower part of the face, which
would otherwise express mere animal activity. And it
is not a fleshy brow that is best adapted for expression
The fulness of the forehead and around the eyes, which
the artists and poets combined to give to Hercules,
conveys the idea of dull, brutal strength, and a lower-
ing expression ; while the forehead of the thin, pale
student, may evince intelligence or elevatiomof thought.

The levator palpebree superioris, the muscle which raises
the upper eyelid, and is an opponent of the orbicularis,
arises deep within the orbit, and is attached in front
to the cartilage which gives form and firmness to the
upper eyelid.

There are also within the orbit six other muscles,
which are inserted into the eyeball. Their action is a
subject of high interest, to discuss which would require
a volume. I must limit myself to the question of the
expression of the eye ; referring the reader for more
ample illustrations, to those memoirs which treat of
the subserviency of the muscles to vision, and of their
action in cleaning the cornea, and protecting the
organ.*

* See the " Nervous System," 4th edition, p. 145 ; " Bridgewatel
Treatise on the Hand," Bonn's Library.

94

THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE.

OF THE EXPRESSION OF THE HUMAN EYE.

The eye is tlie most lively feature in the counte-
nance ; the first of our senses to awake, and the last to
cease motion. It is indicative of the higher and the
holier emotions — of all those feelings which distinguish
man from the brutes.

A large eye is not only consistent with beauty, but
necessary to it. The eye of the eagle, even of the ox, is
familiar in the similes of poets. The Arab expresses
his idea of a woman's beauty, by saying, that she has
the eye of the gazelle ; it is the burthen of their songs
The timidity, gentleness, and innocent fear, in the eye
of the deer tribe, are compared with the modesty of a
young girl. " Let her be as the loving hind, and
pleasant roe." In the eye we look for meaning, foi
human sentiment, for reproof.*

Do architects study enough, when arranging the
masses of their buildings for effect, how the shadows
will fall? The statuary, at all events, must. "The
eye ought to be sunk," says Winkelmann.*]* Yes, rela-
tively to the forehead ; but not in reference to the face.
That would give a very mean expression. It is the
strong shadow produced by the projecting eyebrow,
which gives powerful effect to the eye, in sculpture.

We have said, that the eye indicates the holier emo-
tions. In all stages of society, and in every clime,
the posture and expression of reverence have been
the same. The works of the great masters, who
have represented the more sublime passions of man,
may be adduced as evidences : by the upturned direction

* " I gave him," said Dr. Parr, " the chastisement of my eye."
t "Aux tetes ideales, les yeux sont toujours plus enfonces qu'ils
le le sont en general dans la nature."

THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE.

95

of the eyes, and a correspondence of feature and atti-
tude, they address us in language intelligible to all
mankind. The humble posture and raised eyes are
natural, whether in the darkened chamber, or under the
open vault of heaven.

On first consideration, it seems merely consistent,
that when pious thoughts prevail, man should turn
his eyes from things earthly to the purer objects
above. But there is a reason for this, which is every
way worthy of attention. When subject to particular
influences, the natural position of the eyeball is to be
directed upwards. In sleep, languor and depression,
or when affected with strong emotions, the eyes naturally
and insensibly roll upwards. The action is not a volun-
tary one ; it is irresistible. Hence, in reverence, in devo-
tion, in agony of mind, in all sentiments of pity, in bodily
pain with fear of death, the eyes assume that position.

Let us explain by what muscles the eyes are so
revolved. There are two sets of muscles which govern
the motions of the eyeball. Four straight muscles,
attached at cardinal points by combining their action,
move it in every direction required for vision ; and
these muscles are subject to the will. When the straight
muscles, from weariness or exhaustion, cease to guide
the eye, two other muscles operate to roll it upwards
under the eyelid ; these are the oblique muscles. Ac-
cordingly, in sleep, in fainting, in approaching death,
when the four voluntary muscles resign their action,
and insensibility creeps over the retina, the oblique
muscles prevail, and the pupil is revolved, so as to
expose only the white of the eye. It is so far consola-
tory to reflect, that the apparent agony indicated by
this direction of the eyes, in fainting or the approach
^f death, is the effect of encroaching insensibility — of
ibjects impressed on the nerve of vision being no longer
Derceived.

THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE.

We thus see that when wrapt in devotional feelings,
and when outward impressions are unheeded, the eyes
are raised by an action neither taught nor acquired.
It is by this instinctive motion we are led to bow with
humility — to look upwards in prayer, and to regard
the visible heavens as the seat of God.

" Prayer is the upward glancing of the eye,
When none but God is near."

Although the savage does not always distinguish
God from the heavens above him, this direction of
the eye would appear to be the source of the universal
belief that the Supreme Being has His throne above.
The idolatrous Negro in praying for rice and yams,
or that he may be active and swift, lifts up his eyes
to the canopy of the sky.* So, in intercourse with God,
although we are taught that our globe is ever re-
volving : though religion inculcates that the Almighty
is everywhere, yet, under the influence of this position
of the eye, which is no doubt designed for a purpose,
— we seek Him on high. " I will lift up mine eyes
unto the hills from whence cometh my help."f

See, then, how this property of our bodily frame
has influenced our opinions, and belief; our conceptions
of the Deity — our religious observances — our poetry,
and daily habits.

Although the geologist may think that the account

* Barbot : " Description of Guinea."

f The same influence, which thus induces a posture of the body
in accommodation to the eye, makes the attitude of stooping tho
sign of supplication — of obeisance — and courtesy, among all
nations. "And Araunah looked, and saw the king and his servants
coming on towards him ; and Araunah went out, and bowed
himself before the kin^, od his face upon the ground. " So,
Abraham : " And he lift up his eyes and looked, and lo three
men stood by him ; and when he saw them he ran to meet them
from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground."

The Mahomedans, in acts of devotion, cross their hands on
their bosom and incline the head.

Page 96

PRAYER

THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE.

97

in the Scriptures of the formation of the earth, is con-
tradicted by his theories, we perceive in our present
investigation a strict agreement in man's inmost
structure with the book of life ; and we may say with
Kepler, that man should not resign his natural feelings
and thoughts in pursuit of philosophy, " but that,
lifting up his natural eyes, with which alone he can
see, he should from his own heart pour himself out in
worship to the Creator ; being certain that he gives no
less worship to God than the astronomer."

By this physical conformation, combined with our
highest quality of mind, we are led to the expression
of devotion. The design of man's being was, that he
might praise and honour his Maker. Gratitude is
the debt of our nature, and in this property of the eye
there is pointed out to us how that gratitude, which
is the distinguishing character of our minds, is to be
directed.

The orbicularis muscle of the eyelids acts powerfully
in certain kinds of expression. In laughing and
crying, the outer circle of this muscle, as it contracts,
gathers up the skin about the eye ; and at the same
time it compresses the eyeball. A new interest is
given to the subject when we inquire into the object
of that compression. It has a distinct relation to the
circulation of the blood within the eye. During every
violent act of expiration, whether in hearty laughter,
weeping, coughing, or sneezing, the eyeball is firmly
compressed by the fibres of the orbicularis ; and this is
a provision for supporting and defending the vascular
system of the interior of the eye from a retrograde
impulse communicated to the blood in the veins at
that time. When we contract the chest, and expel the
air, there is a retardation of the blood in the veins of
the neck and head ; and in the more powerful acts
of expulsion, the blood not only distends the vessels,

H

98

THE EXPRESSION OF THE EYE.

but is even regurgitated into the minute branches.
Were the eye not properly compressed at that time,
and a resistance given to the shock, irreparable
injury might be inflicted on the delicate textures of
the interior of the eye.* Hence we see a reason for the
closed state of the eyelids, and wrinkling of the sur-
rounding skin, and twinkling of the eye, in hearty
laughter.

In the drunkard, there is a heaviness of eye, a dis-
position to squint, and to see double, and a forcible
elevation of the eyebrow to counteract the dropping of
the upper eyelid, and preserve the eyes from closing.
Hogarth has very happily caught this hanging of the
eyelid, with the effort in the muscles of the forehead to
prevent it from actually falling. The peculiar ex-
pression may be thus explained. In the stupor of
inebriation, the voluntary muscles of the eyeball resign
their action to the oblique muscles, which, as we have
Been, instinctively revolve the eye upwards when
insensibility comes on : at the same time, the muscle
which elevates the upper lid yields, in sympathy with
the oblique muscles, to the action of the orbicularis
which closes the eyes, and the eyelid drops. The
condition is, in short, the same as that of falling asleep ;
when the eyeball revolves as the lids close. It is the
struggle of the drunkard to resist, with his half-
conscious efforts, the rapid turning up of the eye, and
to preserve it under the control of the voluntary
muscles, that makes him see objects distorted, and
strive, by arching his eyebrows, to keep the upper lid
from descending. The puzzled appearance which this

* " If we separate the eyelids of a child, to examine the eye while
it cries and struggles with passion, by taking off the natural
support to the vascular system of the eye, and the means of
guarding it against the rush of blood then occurring, the con-
junctiva becomes suddenly filled with blood, and the eyelids
everted." — Nervous System, p. 175.

OF THE MUSCLES OF THE NOSTEILS. 99

gives rise to, along with the relaxation of the lower
part of the face, and the slight paralytic obliquity of the
mouth, complete the degrading expression.

OF THE MUSCLES OF THE NOSTRILS.

The nostrils are features which have a powerful
effect in expression. The breath being drawn through
them, and their structure formed for alternate expansion

and contraction in correspondence with the motions
of the chest, they are an index of the condition of
respiration, when affected by emotion. As they consist
of cartilages moved by appropriate muscles, acting in
strict sympathy with the drawing of the breath, they
become expressive of animal excitement.

We may enumerate four muscles which move the
cartilages of the nostrils.

Levator lahii sujperioris et alee nasi (a). — This muscle

h 2

100 MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS.

arises from the upper jaw-bone, and descends to the
lip ; but a part of it stops short, to be attached to the
moveable cartilage of the nostril ; it raises the nostril
along with the upper lip.

The Depressor alee nasi (b) arises from the upper jaw-
bone, close to the sockets of the front teeth ; it ascends
and is inserted into the lateral cartilage of the nostril,
and pulls down that cartilage.

The Compressor nasi (c) arises from the cartilaginous
oridge of the nose,* and is inserted into the lateral car-
tilage of the nostril. The name would imply that this
muscle compresses the membraneous part of the nose,
which it does; but its principal action must be to
expand the nostril, by raising the lateral cartilage.

The next muscle is a slip of the Orbicularis oris (d),
which, detaching itself from that mass of the muscle,
runs up to the edge of the septum of the nose.

Thus we see how Nature has provided for the motions
of the nostrils. The actions of these muscles are con-
trolled by a nerve of the class which has been dis-
tinguished as subservient to the apparatus of breathing ;
and it is owing to this that the sympathy is established
between the general act of drawing the breath and
the expansion of the nostrils. As the motions of the
nostrils, however, are intimately connected with those
of the lips, I shall defer making any further observations
upon them, until the muscles of the mouth have been
described.

MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS.

Tne fleshy structure of the lips is in a great measure
owing to a circular muscle which surrounds the mouth.

* That is certainly its most fixed extremity.

MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 101

This muscle closes the lips, and is the opponent of many-
other muscles, which, taking their origin from the
prominent points of the bones of the face, are con-
centred towards the mouth, and, besides opening it,
move the lips in various directions. We must look
upon the whole of these muscles in three points of view :
1, as belonging to mastication, turning the morsel, and
placing it under the action of the teeth ; 2, as part of

the organ of speech ; and 3, as powerful agents in ex-
pression.

Orbicularis ons(A). — The fibres of this circular muscle
can be traced continuously round the lips, and have
properly no origin. We have already taken notice of
the Levator labii superioris et alee nasi (b), some fibres
of which are inserted into the upper lip.

The Levator labii proprius (c) arises from the upper
jaw, near the orbit. It is attached exclusively to the
upper lip, and raises it.

Levator anguli oris (d). — This muscle lies under the

102 MUSCLES OP THE LIPS AND CHEEKS.

last, and is, of course, shorter ; it raises the angle of the
month.

The Zygomaticus (e) arises from the zygoma, a process
of the cheekbone, which joins the temporal bone ; it is
inserted into the angle of the mouth.

There is sometimes an additional muscle, arising and
inserted in a similar manner, called the zygomaticus
minor (f).

The Buccinator (some of the fibres of which are repre-
sented by g) is a flat muscle, which lines the inside of the
cheek, and, arising from the sockets of the back teeth
of both jaw-bones, is inserted into the angle of the
mouth.

As the teeth of man indicate that he is omnivorous,
and intermediate between the two great tribes of
animals — the carnivorous and herbivorous; we expect
the muscles also to exhibit the same middle state and to
partake the characters of both these classes. And such
is found to be the case. The three muscles last enu-
merated combine to raise and retract the angle of the
mouth, and by doing so, they expose the canine teeth.
Now this group of muscles is especially powerful in the
carnivorous animal ; they lift the fleshy lips off the long
tearing fangs of the lion or tiger, and produce a fierce-
ness of expression. But in the milder graminivorous
animals the same class of muscles have a different
direction given to their action, and they are not capable
of elevating the angles of the mouth in a similar manner.
In ourselves, when these muscles draw upon the orbicu-
laris, and disclose the angular teeth, a painful and
bitter expression is the effect. But before we can speak
correctly on this subject, we must pursue the description
of the remaining muscles.

Of the muscles which depress the lips, there is,
1st. The Triangularis oris, or depressor anguli oris (h),
a comparatively powerful muscle, which arises from the

MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS. 103

base of the lower jaw, and is inserted into the angle
of the mouth.

In the drawing, some muscular fibres (i) may be seen,
which join the triangularis oris, and pass to the angle
of the mouth. These are part of a superficial muscle
of the neck, — the platysma-myoides : the fibres of which
mount over the jaw to terminate on the cheek. The
uppermost fasciculus, represented in the drawing, has
been described by Santorini as a distinct muscle, and
from its action in laughter, has obtained the name
Hisorius Santorini.

The Qttadratus menti (k), a small square muscle,
situated on the chin, depresses the lower lip.

The Levator menti (l) is a small muscle, which arises
from the lower jaw, near the sockets of the front teeth,
and passes to be inserted into the centre of the integu-
ment of the chin. When both muscles act, they throw
up the chin, and project the lower lip.

The angle of the mouth is full of expression ; and
much is implied, according to the prevailing action of
the superior or inferior class of muscles. The triangu-
laris oris and the levator menti combine to produce a
kind of expression which is peculiar to man. The
angle of the mouth is drawn down by the former,
while the lower lip is arched and elevated, with a con-
temptuous effect, by the latter; whence the levator
menti has sometimes been called superbus. The union
of so many muscles at the angle of the lips produces
that fulness about the mouth remarkable in those who
are both thin and muscular. In the child, or youth,
whose face is plump, they make the dimple in the cheek.
It is perceived that the orbicularis is the opponent of
all the muscles which are concentred from various
points to the lips ; and it is by the successive action
and relaxation of these antagonising muscles that so
much and so varied expression is given to the mouth.

104: MUSCLES OF THE LIPS AND CHEEKS.

This circular muscle is affected in various emotions ; it
tremblingly yields to the superior force of its counter-
acting muscles, both in joy and grief: it relaxes
pleasantly in smiling ; it is drawn more powerfully by
its opponent muscles in weeping.

We can have no better illustration of how much
depends on the function exercised by the mouth, for the
particular character impressed on the lower part of
the face, when the lips are in motion, than by watch-
ing the features of a preacher or advocate engaged in
his vocation, and afterwards, if opportunity offers, look-
ing at the play of the same jaws and lips, when over
a trencher. The whole machinery from the temple down-
wards, and from the angle of the jaw to the chin, is in
operation during mastication ; whereas, in the most im-
passioned discourse, the action is concentrated to the lips.

In speaking, there is much motion of the lower lip,
and, consequently, activity in those muscles which form
the fulness of the chin : yet a remarkable variety is
produced in the lines which mark the features about
the upper lip, by the play of the different muscles which
3onverge to the mouth from the margins of the orbits.
But this subject has further interest.

The organization necessary to speech, the great in-
strument of human thought, is widely dispersed : that
is, for the utterance of sound there must conform, a
motion of the lungs or chest, an adjustment of the
larynx and pharynx, and a fine modulation of the lips.
It is more directly from the motions of the tongue and
lips that articulate sounds proceed ; and the connexion
of the numerous muscles brought into operation in these
actions, is congenital with the awakening intellect.
Long before a child is taught to speak, we may see an
imperfect agitation of the lips and cheeks ; and sounds
are uttered which wait only for the effort of imitation
to become- language.

OF THE BEARD.

105

These remarks bear out our former statement, that
beauty in the lips and lower part of the countenance
of a well-formed face, has relation to the perfection
of the structure viewed in connexion with speech, and
in contrast with the apparatus for mastication. The
possession of an instrument of speech is instinctively
associated in our thoughts with the most exalted en-
dowments of man, moral and intellectual.

OF THE BEARD.

" Vidi presso di me un veglio solo,
Degna di tanta riverenza in vista,
Ciie piu non dee a padre alcun figliolo.
Livnga la barba e di pel bianca mista,
Portava a' suoi capegli simigliante
De' quai cadeva al petto doppia lista."

Dante.

The stages of man's life are outwardly characterised.
An opinion prevails, that the form and lineaments of
old age are a consequence of the deterioration of the
material of our frame ; and that the resemblance so
often drawn between an aged man leaning on his staff,
and a ruin tottering to its fall, is a perfect one. It
is not so ; the material of the frame is ever the same :
years affect it not ; but infancy, youth, maturity, and
old age, have their appropriate outward characters.
Why should the forehead be bald, and the beard lux-
uriant, if not to mark the latest epoch of man's life ?
or what reason can be given for the hair not growing
on the chin during the vascular fulness of youth, but
that it would be inconsistent with the oharacters oi
that time of life to be provided with a beai d ?

When these Essaj^s were first written, there was not

106

OF THE BEARD.

a beard to be seen in England, unless joined with
squalor and neglect : and I had the conviction that this
appendage concealed the finest features. Being in Borne,
however, during the procession of the Corpus Domini, I
saw that the expression was not injured by the beard ;
but that it added to the dignity and character of years.
It was evident that the fine heads by the old masters
were copies of what were then seen in nature, though
now but rarely. There were beards which nearly
equalled that of the " Moses " of Michael Angelo in
length, and which flowed like those in the paintings of
Domenichino and Correggio.*

The beard is characteristic of nations. In the East,
it is honoured ; and to be shaved, is the mark of a
slave.f A beard of three hands' breadth is a goodly
show ; but to exceed that, requires a life of repose :
violent exercise in the field shortens the beard. The
Turks have a very poor beard. The Persians have
noble beards, and are proud of the distinction. The
beard of Futteh Ali Shah, the late king of Persia,
reached below his girdle, was full and fine, and remark-
able in a nation of beards, for having no division in
the middle. Such a beard, during the active period of
life, shews finely on horseback ; being tossed over the
shoulders in the wind, and indicating speed. In the
natural beard, the hair has a peculiarity depending on
the place from which it grows. The hair of the upper

* u In the procession of the Corpus Domini, the Pope is attended
by bishops from all parts of Christendom: from Mount Lebanon
and the East, as well as from Roman Catholic Ireland. These dig-
nitaries, with the cardinals, the superiors of convents, the friars of
various orders, and the cavalcade of the guarda nobile, form a
pageant far beyond what royalty can attain, or can anywhere else
be witnessed, whether we consider the pL ce and accompaniments,
or the actors and their costumes. Then it was, that ag»*, with bald
head, and flowing beard, and appropriate robes, surpassed youth and
beauty, with all the trappings of the cavalier." — Note from Journal.

f 2 Samuel x. 4.

OF THE BEARD.

107

lip is more profuse, and even in the oldest man is of a
darker hue, than that of the under lip ; so that falling
on the lower part, it can still be distinguished as it
mixes with the purer white. Again, the hair descend-
ing from the sides of the face attains a greater length
than that which comes from the chin ; and this is more
especially the character of age.

In the French regiments they set frightful fellows,
with axes over their shoulders, to march in front : on
their heads is a black bear-skin cap, of the form and
dimensions of a drum, and they select men with beards
of the same hue, which gro w in a bush, the counterpart
of that on their heads. But the face, as seen between
the two black masses, is more ludicrous than terrible,
and has an effect very different from what is in tended.
A common fellow's beard, like a common fellow's
countenance, is coarse.

Even in the Franciscan and Capuchin monks, the
beard has not always the fine character displayed in the
works of the old painters. Their models are gone with
their times. Something excessive and ideal may be
represented by the beard. Michael Angelo has, perhaps,
followed Scripture, in the beard of his " Moses," which
floats below the girdle ; and in the fresco of Jeremiah,
in the Sistine Chapel. The finest painting of the beard
that I have seen, is by Correggio, in the Scala of the
Albergo dei Poveri, in Genoa, — a fresco of the Saviour,
in the arms of the Almighty, where the beard of the
Father flows beautifully. In short, the beard may be-
come, with knowledge and taste, the most characteristic
part in a figure.*

* " Our northern artists are unfavourably situated, not owing to
the direct influence of cold, as Winckelman imagined, but an indirect
cause. In historical painting, they draw from copies of nature, and
paint beards as they do the naked figure, without seeing it, or being
familiar with the form and colour of the one or the other. But in
Rome also they make mistakes. I found the artists supporting a

108

OF THE BEABD,

Expression in the Lips and Moustaches. Things
familiar do not always give rise to their natural
association. I was led to attend more particularly to
the moustaches as a feature of expression, in meeting
a handsome young French soldier, coming up a long
ascent in the Cdte-d'Or, and breathing hard, although
with a good-humoured, innocent expression. His
sharp-pointed black moustaches rose and fell with a
catamountain look that set me to think on the cause.

Every one must have observed, how the nostrils play
in hard breathing.* We have seen that there is a
muscle which is the principal agent in this action ; and
it may be felt swelling during inspiration, when the
finger is pressed on the upper lip, just under the nostril.
It is the depressor aloe. nasi. The action of this muscle,
under the roots of the hairs on the lip. sensibly moves
them ; and as all passionate excitements influence the
respiratory actions, the nostrils and moustaches neces-
sarily participate in the movement in violent passions.
Thus, although the hair of the upper lip does conceal
the finer modulations of the mouth, as in woman,
it adds to the character of the stronger and harsher
emotions.

I continued to think of this in descending the Khone
in company with some French officers ; they were

fellow, whose beard was their model. The hair of the head, and
the beard of this man, had grown to an extraordinary length, show-
ing what an uncouth mass it may become. He had been painted
so often as the Father of the gods, that in his craze he had believed
himself to be no less. I said, if they would plunge him in the
Tiber, and study him as he rose, he might pass for a river god.
No ; the beard is a mere mass of hair, but admits of much character."
— Note from Journal.

* Physiognomists make a wide nostril the sign of a fiery dis-
position. It may be expressive of passion, without being the cause.
The idea of its beiug the seat of passion, is undoubtedly taken from
animal expression. <; There went a tmoke out of His nostrils," it
hardly descriptive of human excitement.

OF THE BEARD.

109

merry with wine, and I saw their moustaches, black,
red, and white, animated in their songs and laughter ;
and although with a farouche character, these appen-
dages rather added to, than concealed expression. We
see the pictorial effect in the hilarity of the Dutch boor.

The lower lip moves more than the upper. With
this, too, we are so familiar as not to be sensible of
it ; but if we try the experiment of looking on the face
of a friend, in a reversed position, we shall be convinced
that it is so. The expression of speaking results very
much from the modulation of the lower lip ; and the
rising and falling of the jaw, which takes place at the
same time, and more especially in singing, adds to
the motion. Passion, however, is expressed more in the
upper lip.

In compassionating a fellow-creature, it is not natural
to look on the face reversed. Yet I have seen in a
modern picture, a soldier regarding his wounded
comrade, dessus dessous, the mouth to the forehead, the
eye to the mouth. The immediate effect was a want
of sympathy, — of proper feeling. Even the nurse turns
her head in correspondence with the face of the infant.
Is the same not meant by the Psalmist, " My heart said
unto thee, Let my face seek thy face f ,? This was in my
mind in looking on a picture of the Saviour, dead,
lying on the knees of the Madonna ; she turns her
head, bringing her face nearly parallel with that of the
Redeemer ; which produces infinite grace and tender-
ness.*

The drawing of the head of a man, thrown to the
ground, being to our eye reversed, has not the same
effect as when represented upright. Certain features
must be exaggerated. That is, if the painter were to
draw the face accurately, and then turn the picture
the contrary way, the head downwards, it would have

* In the Gallery of the Accademia delle Belle A rte, Bologna*

110

OF THE BEARD

no force. This arises from the reversed features being
deficient in the accustomed harmony, and from the
altered relation of the upper and lower lips.
Michael Angel o, with his other excellencies, was
a master of expression. There is a Pieta by him in
alto-relievo,* which gives proof of this. The piece of
marble does not exceed three feet ; and nothing but
expression could have given to it its celebrity.

I was never more sensible of the action of the lower4
lip, as expressive of speech, than in looking on a picture
by that very extraordinary painter, Zurbaran. It re-
presents St. Francis. He is kneeling, his hands
locked together energetically, his eyes raised, and his
lower lip has the expression of moving in prayer.f

Among the many advantages which the artist has in
the southern countries of Europe, the service of the
Koman Catholic Church affords him the chief. At all
reasons, as well as during the service of the altar,
there are in the cathedrals and churches groups and
single figures; the lady in rich attire, not more
picturesque than the country girl ; the beggar, and the
monk, on their knees, muttering their prayers. In the
family pew of the Eeformed Church there may be as
holy a frame of mind, but never the expression of
those rapt and solitary figures, whom we see prostrate
on the bare stones in the solemn light of these churches.
But my object was to advert to their inaudible inut-
terings, in which the amount of expression capable
of being thrown into the lips during speech may be

* In the Albergo dei Poveri, in Genoa. a A Pieta is the repre-
sentation of Christ resting on the lap of the mother. The eyes of
the mother are shut, the mouth not open, but in the lips a form that
implies she is about to kiss the cheek. The angles of the mouth
are in the slightest degree depressed, and the lips must open when
next she draws breath/' — Note from Journal.

f The picture is in the Spanish School of the Musoe Koyale of
the Louvre.

OF THE BEARD.

Ill

well observed. Nor can a stranger go from the church
to the picture-galleries, and mistake for a moment
where the great painters found their studies, where they
gained those conceptions of devotion, of enthusiasm
and abandonment, which we see in the portraits of
their saints and martyrs.*

* " St. Siro, Genoa. It is a new thing to see those beggars
crawling on the stairs. There is one who, lying on his belly,
drags himself along with a short stick ; the precise figure that is
in tlie cartoons of Raphael. They are squalid, distorted, and
strange. One fellow among them I should have in my sketch-book.
He is on his knees, and, whilst receiving a soldo from a very
poor and very old woman, counts his beads, and crosses himself
with an indifference that hardly can be real. In entering a
church in health, and the enjoyment of life, to step through amongst
the ' poveri ' is no bad preparation. It is impossible to witness the
countryman, whose coarse dress marks the lowness of his condition,
— to see him apart, in an obscure aisle, cast down, and in prayer,
with such perfect abstraction and abandonment, without the
words of the publican being suggested, ' God be merciful to me
a sinner.' In this respect, amidst all the blazon and shew of
worship which belong to the Roman Catholic, it is still the church
of the poor. There is no respect for rank or condition within the
precincts of a place of worship.'* — Note from Journal.

( 112 )

ESSAY V.

07 THE EXPRESSION OF PASSION, AS ILLUSTRATED BY A COM-
PARISON OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE IN MAN AND IN
ANIMALS; AND OF THE MUSCLES PECULIAR TO MAN, AND
THEIR EFFECTS IN BESTOWING HUMAN EXPRESSION.

The violent passions are exhibited so distinctly in the
countenance of both man and animals, that we are led
to consider the movements by which they are made
obvious, as characteristic signs provided by nature for
the express purpose of intimating the inward emotions :
that they may be interpreted by a peculiar and in-
tuitive faculty in the observer.

This view, however, so natural at first, is not alto-
gether satisfactory ; and an opposite theory has been
proposed, in which such special provision is denied,
and the appearances are accounted for, as the effect of
certain actions which are performed in obedience to the
common laws of the animal economy. It is also said,
that we are taught by experience alone to distinguish
the signs of the passion in man : that in infancy we
learn that smiles are expressive of kindness, because ac-
companied by endearments, and that frowns are the
reverse, because they are followed by blows. The expres-
sion of anger in a brute is alleged to be merely the cast
of features which precedes his biting ; and the character
of fondness, that which is seen in his fawning and
licking of the hand. In short, it has been maintained
that what are called the external signs of passion, are only
the concomitants of those voluntary movements which
the structure renders nocessary. That, for example, the
glare of the lion's eye proceeds from his effort to see
his prey more clearly ; and his grin or snarl from tha

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS. US

natural act of unsheathing his fangs before using
them.

But, if we attend to the evidence of anatomical
investigation, we shall perceive a remarkable difference
between the provision for giving motion to the features
in animals, and that for bestowing expression in man.
In the lower creatures, there is no expression, but what
may be referred, more or less plainly, to their acts of
volition, or necessary instincts ; while in man there
6eems to be a special apparatus, for the purpose of
enabling him to communicate with his fellow-creatures,
by that natural language, which is read in the changes
of his countenance. There exist in his face, not only
all those parts, which by their action produce expres-
sion in the several classes of quadrupeds, but there is
added a peculiar set of muscles to which no other office
can be assigned than to serve for expression.

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

In brutes the most marked expression is that of rage ;
the object of which is opposition, resistance, and defence.
But on examination it will be found that the force of
the expression is in proportion to the strength of the
principal action in the creature when thus excited.

The graminivorous animals, which seek their subsis-
tence, not by preying upon others, or by the ferocity,
contest, and victory, which supply the carnivorous with
food, have in their features no strong expression of rage ;
it is chiefly confined to the effect produced on the general
system. Thus the inflamed eye and the breathing
nostrils of the bull are induced by the excitement of
the whole frame ; his only proper expression of rage is
in the position of the head, with the horns turned
obliquely to the ground, ready to strike ; and indeed it

I

114

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

may be observed, that animals which strike with the
horns shew little indication either of fear or rage, except
in the position of the head ; for the breath ejected from
the expanded nostril is the effect of mere exertion, and
may belong to different conditions of the frame. In all
graminivorous animals, the skin of the head is closely
attached to the skull, and capable of very limited
motion : the eye is almost uniformly mild, and the lips
are unmoved by passion.

It is in the carnivorous animals, with whose habits
and manner of life ferocity is instinctively connected,
as suited to their mode of subsistence, that rage is dis-
tinguished by remarkable strength of expression. The
eyeball is terrible, and the retraction of the flesh of the
lips indicates the most savage fury. The action of the
respiratory organs, the heaving and agony of breathing,
the deep and harsh motion of the air drawn through
the throat in the growl, declare the universal excite-
ment of the animal. It is wrong to imagine that all
this is a mere preparatory exposure of the canine teeth.
Brutes may have expression, properly so called, as well
as man, though in a more limited degree ; but in them,
expression is so moulded to their natures and their
necessities, that it seems accessory to their needful and
voluntary actions.

The horse is universally held to be a noble animal,
as he possesses the expression of courage, without the
ferociousness of the beast of prey ; and as there is a
consent between the motions of the ear and the eye,
which resembles the exertion of mind, and the move-
ments of the human countenance. But even this ex-
pression is the result of an incidental consent of animal
motions ; and no more proves intelligence, than the
diminutive eye and the unexpressive face of the elephant
denote the contrary. We admire it, because there is as
much animation as in the tiger, without the ferocity.

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

115

The consent of motions between the eye and the ear of
the horse is a physical consequence of the necessities of
the animal. His defence lies in the hind feet, and there
is an arrangement both in the muscles, and in the form
of the skull, for that retroverted direction of the eye,
which seems so expressive in the horse, but which merely
serves to guide the blow. The inflation of the nostrils,
and the fleshiness of the lips, belong to the peculiar
provision for his respiration and mode of feeding.

The head of a lion is taken to shew the muscular
apparatus of a carnivorous animal.

a a. The circular fibres, which surround the eyelids,
and which are common to all animals.

bcd. Accessory muscles, which draw back the eyelids
from the eyeball, and give a sparkling fierceness to the
eye.

Artists bestow an expression on the eye of the lion
which they suppose gives dignity — a kind of knitting
of the eyebrows, whilst the eyelids are straining wide.
This is quite incompatible with the powers of expression
in brutes. When the lion closes his eyes in repose,
the fleshiness about the eyelids and the hair of the
skin produce the effect of a morose human expression,
but when he is excited and the eye is fixed, there is no
such character.

E F. The mass of muscular fibres, with those concealed
under them, is very strong in this class of animals.
They raise and expose the teeth, with the savage
expression peculiar to the carnivora.

g. The muscles which move the nostril in smelling.

h. A muscle which answers to the zygomaticus in man
and which must have great power in this animal, as it
reaches from the ear to the angle of the mouth. It
opens the mouth, retracts the lips, and disengages them
from the teeth, as in seizing their prey.

I 2

116

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

I. The buccinator muscle.

k. Insertion of part of the masseter muscle, one of
the powerful muscles that close the jaws.

I observed above, that some painters have thought
it allowable to give human expression to the heads
of lions, and others have presented it in their heads of
horses. I think this is done on a mistaken view, and

that it will never enhance the peculiar beauty of any
animal to engraft upon it some part of human ex-
pression. Eubens, in his picture of Daniel in the lions'
den, has given this character to the heads of the lions.
It is more than doubtful whether it be in the true
spirit of that principle of association which should
govern the adaptation of expression and character in

Page, 117

Horses head

( Giidio Romano )

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

117

producing an ideal form, thus to mingle human ex-
pression with the features of the savage animals. It
seeing however, that a distinction is to be made when
the lion is represented in its natural state and when
sculptured emblematically. Eepresented in his den, or
in the forest, the picture should possess all the natural
character ; when couched amidst the insignia of empire,
there may be a difference.

A horse's head is added in illustration ; it is taken
from Giulio Eomano. The painter has here produced
an ideal head : we say that it is a horse rather on
account of the bridle in the mouth than because we
recognise the natural character of that animal. Instead
of the full clear eye standing prominent upon the
temple, there is an eye sunk deep, with an overhanging
eyebrow; the character entirely human, and the ex-
pression thoughtful and suspicious. In the hair of the
forehead, and in the ears, in the roundness of the head
and neck, the artist has preferred the model of the
antique to what, in this instance, we must consider to
be the finer forms of nature. Here are the nostrils of
the horse, but they want expansion ; and there are
thick and fleshy lips, with an open mouth, which no
power of association can ever teach us to admire.

There is a spirit in the expanded nostril, a fire in
the eye, a kind of intelligence in the horse's head taken
altogether ; there is a beauty in the form of the neck,
and an ease and grandeur in the carriage of the head,
where strength and freedom are combined, which can-
not be excelled by the substitution of an ideal form.
No doubt the painter in this instance wished to avoid
that commonness of form, which represses sentiment
in the beholder, and destroys the poetical effect of a
picture; but it is attempted at the expense of truth
of character. In the utmost excitement, animals of
this class do not open the mouth; they cannot

118 OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

breathe through the mouth, — a valve in the throat
prevents it, — so that animation is exhibited only in the
nostril and the eye. The open month is from the
checking of the bit between the teeth, and is never
seen when the horse is untrammelled and free.

Such were the the opinions delivered in the first
edition of this work, and they were drawn from obser-
vation of nature, on which I always rest with absolute
reliance. Since that time, the Elgin collection of sculp-
tures has arrived. These remains of antiquity are of
great value to the arts of this country, as they ob-
viously tend to turn the artist's attention to nature,
and exhibit to him the consistency of natural form
and beauty. The horses' heads in that collection are
perfectly natural, and if there be exaggeration, it is
only in the stronger marking of that which is the
characteristic distinction of the animal.

The next drawing represents the muscles of the
horse's head.

a a. The orbicular muscle of the eyelids.

b. An accessory muscle to raise the eyelid.

c. A very peculiar muscle. It pulls down the eyelid.

d. A muscle connected also with the eye and arising
from the cartilages of the ear.

e. A muscle answering to the zygomatic muscle in man.
These muscles, surrounding the eyelids of the horse,

account for the superior expression of the eye. The
muscle d seems calculated to operate upon the outer
angle of the eyelids, and to enable the animal to direct
the eye backwards ; in this it is probably assisted by
the muscle e.

f. This forms a class of muscles which descend on
the side of the face, and are inserted into the nostril.

gg. Muscular fibres, also operating in the distension
cf the tube of the nostril.

Horse's head

( Muscles )

OF EXPRESSION IN ANIMALS.

119

H. A strong muscle, which acts upon the cartilage
|nd distends the nostril with great power.

There is something in the distribution of these
muscles which illustrates the character of the class,
and accounts for the peculiarity of expression. We
cannot fail to observe the difference in the general
direction and classing of the muscles of the face in the
horse and in the lion. In the carnivorous animal,
they all tend to lift the lips from the canine teeth,
so that they cannot act without shewing the teeth,
with a snarling expression ; in the graminivorous
animal, on the contrary, muscles, having the same
place and origin, pass to the cartilages of the nose and
inflate it the instant they are excited. It is these
muscles, therefore, more than any thing else, which
produce the very different character and expression in
the two classes of animals.

i I. A strong muscle, which lies under that of the
nostril f. Its tendon passes forward over the nose,
and unites with its fellow of the other side. These
together form a broad tendon k, which is inserted
into the upper lip. There is a similar muscle moving
the lower lip, which cannot be seen in this view.

L m. The circular fibres of the lips, which in the
horse are particularly strong and fleshy.

n. A web of muscle, which is extended from the
cutaneous muscle of the neck.

The last-named muscles have all great power, and give
extensive motion to the lips. They take a course over the
nose in a manner quite peculiar to this class of animals,
to raise and project the upper lip, as in gathering food.
Any one who feeds his horse from his hand may feel
the singular sensitiveness and mobility of his lips.

Looking to these muscles, and contrasting them with
the animated sketch by Mr. Northoote, we cannot fail
to see how much the form of the head depends upon the

120

OF THE MTSCLES OF ANIMALS.

teeth being small in front, and large and deep-set at
the back part of the jaw ; how much the peculiarity of
expression in the animal is owing to its breathing
through the nostril, and not through the mouth, and to
its brilliant eye being placed on the utmost projection
of the head, so that, by the slightest turn of the pliant
neck, it may be directed backward. Finally, we perceive
how the muscles are adapted to draw back the eyelids,
to expand the nostrils, and project the lips from the
incisor teeth, and also to place the food under the opera-
tion of the grinding teeth.

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS COMPARED WITH THOSE
OF MAN.

Eeferring to the remarkable difference between the
range of expression in man and in animals, and con-
sidering that in brutes it proceeds from necessity or
voluntary action, while in man there is a special provi-
sion for bestowing it, — a peculiar set of muscles to
which no other office can be assigned, it is proper to
reduce the muscles of several quadrupeds into classes,
that we may distinguish the characteristics of mere
animal expression from those in man.

They may be distinguished as, 1st. Those which raise
the lips from the teeth ; 2d. Those which surround the
eyelids ; and 3d. Those which move the nostrils.

1. The first of these classes, viz. the muscles which raise
the lips from the teeth, admit of a subdivision. In the
carnivorous animals the muscles of the lips are so
directed as to raise the lip from the canine teeth. In
tlie graminivorous they are directed so as to raise the
lips from the incisor teeth. The former I would dis-
tinguish by the name ringentes, snarling muscles : the
latter by the name depascentes, muscles simply for feeding.

Page 120

HORSE'S HEAD

( Jsforthcote )

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 121

The snarling muscles arise from the margin of the
orbit, and from the upper jaw ; they are inserted into
that part of the upper lip from which the moustaches
grow, and which is opposite to the canine teeth. Their
sole office is to raise the upper lip from the canine teeth ;
and although they are assisted in this by others (the
masticating muscles), I have ventured to distinguish
them particularly as the muscles of snarling. This
action of snarling is quite peculiar to the ferocious and
carnivorous animals. The graminivorous are incapable
of it, and consequently these muscles are to be found
largely developed only in the former class, not in the
latter. In the carnivorous animals it can scarcely be
said that there is a perfect or regular orbicular muscle,
as in man, for contracting the lips ; the lips hang loose
and relaxed, unless when drawn aside by the snarling
muscles, and they fall back into this state of relaxation,
with the remission of the action of these muscles.

The chief muscles of the lips, which in carnivorous
animals are directed to the side of the mouth, are,
in graminivorous animals, directed to the middle of
the lip over the front teeth. I call them depascentes,
from their use, which is to enable the creature to open
its lips so as to gather food, and to bite the grass. They
are long muscles ; one set come down upon each side of
the face, and joining in a broad tendon, pass over the
nose to be inserted into the upper lip. Another set
run along the lower jaw, to be inserted by a peculiar
feathered tendon into the under lip. These muscles
are very strong in the horse. They give a peculiar and
characteristic expression to the stallion, when he snuffs
the breeze, with his head high in air ; when he bites, the
expression is entirely different from that of the carniv-
orous animal ; instead of exposing the teeth correspond-
ing with the canine, he lifts the lips from the fore
teeth, and protrudes them. The carnivorous animals

122 OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

have not these muscles of the fore part of the lip ; in
them, the lips covering the incisor teeth are not fleshy
like those of the graminivorous animals, but are tied
down to the gums, and the fore teeth are exposed only
in consequence of the straining occasioned by retraction
of the side of the mouth.

Although the graminivorous animals do not possess
those muscles which so powerfully retract the lips in
the carnivorous class, they have a more perfect orbicular
muscle surrounding the mouth, and regulating the
motion of their fleshy lips.

5. Muscles which surround the eyelid. — In man, the
upper eyelid is raised by a muscle coming from the
back of the orbit. But animals of prey, in whose
eyes there is the peculiar and ferocious splendour, which
distinguishes the tiger or the lion, have, in addition to
this muscle, three others attached to the eyelids, which,
stretching the coats and drawing the eyelids backward
upon the prominent eyeball, produce a fixed straining
of the eye, and a greater brightness. These muscles I
have termed scintillantes, because by retracting the
eyelids, they expose the brilliant white of the eye,
which reflects a sparkling light. In the sheep, besides
the proper muscle coming from the bottom of the orbit,
there is only a web of fibres to assist in raising the
eyelid. In the horse, there is a muscle to pull down
the lower eyelid ; and another, which, passing from the
ear to the outer angle of the eyelid, retracts it, and
enables the animal to direct the pupil backward, where
his defence lies. In the feline tribe light is reflected
from the bottom of the eye, when the pupil is dilated ;
and as the pupil dilates in obscure light, there is a
brilliant reflection from the cat's eye, which we
mistake for indication of passion. All these may be
partially displayed in the human eye, as in the blood-
shot redness combined with the circle of reflected light

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

123

from the margin of the corner, like a flame or angry
spark, as Charon is described "by Dante, —

" Ch' intomo agli occhi avea di fiamme mote,"

or as lighted charcoal, from the bottom of the eye, —

" Caron demonio con occhi di bragia."

It is in this way that a touch of true expression will
illustrate a whole passage ; so Milton,

u With head uplift above the wave, and eyes
That sparkling blazed."*

3. Muscles of the Nostrils. — These are not less distinct
and peculiar, in different classes of animals, than the
muscles of the eye and lips. In the carnivorous animals,
the nose is comparatively insignificant, provision being
made in the open mouth for any occasional increase
of respiration above the uniform play of the lungs ;
while in the inoffensive animals, which are the prey of
the more ferocious, the inflation of the nostril is provided
for by the action of another set of muscles.

For example, in the horse, " the glory of whose nostrils
is terrible," the muscles which inflate the nostril are
very peculiar. They arise like the ringentes ; but instead
of being fixed into the lips, as in carnivorous animals,
whose lips are to be raised from the canine teeth, they
pass to the nostrils, and in combination with some lesser
muscles, powerfully inflate them when the animal is
pushed to his speed, excited by fear, or inflamed to rage.

In the gallery of Florence, there is the head of a horse
in bronze, and antique ; it is very fine, and in all respects
as natural as those of the Elgin Marbles; the mouth
is open, but there is a bit in it.

Over the fountain, in the Piazza of the Grand Duke,
is placed a group of Neptune, drawn by four horses;

* So also Spenser, B. vi. cant. 7, stanza 42.

124

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

the mouths of all the horses are open, and as they are
free agents, without bit or harness, they seem to be
of one mind, and to be expressing the same thing, what-
ever that may be. They would have been much finer,
had the artist given them animation through the eye
and nostril, without opening the mouth.*

The horse's mouth is never seen open when the animal
is free. Nothing can be finer than the action of a charger
in the field : but though he should snort and neigh and
throw up his head and mane, with all his excitement
he does not open his mouth. In the antiquities of
Count Caylus, the horse's head is represented naturally.

We may notice here, that most of the carnivorous
animals hunt their prey. For this object, they not
only require a peculiar and extended organ of smelling,
but the air must be drawn forcibly over the surface on
which the olfactory nerve is spread. It appears to
me that this accounts for their small confined nostril, and
their breathing freely through the mouth. In smelling,
an action of the nostrils takes place which directs the
stream of air upwards into the cells of the nose, where
the olfactory nerve is distributed. This is especially
the case in the conformation of the dog's nostrils.

Eeturning now to the muscles in the human counte-
nance, we perceive that, although the motions of the
lips and nostrils in man may not be so extensive as in
other classes of animals, there is in his face a capacity for
all the varieties of expression which distinguish these
creatures. He stands, as we have said, between the
carnivorous and graminivorous animals ; or, rather, he
partakes the nature of both. He has the snarling
muscles which so peculiarly distinguish the carnivorous
class, while he is able to protrude the lips, and uncover

* " Milan. The four horses in the triumphal arch have their
mouths gaping wide ; not so the coursers last night in the Circus "
— Note from Journal.

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

125

the teeth, like the graminivorous. We have seen that
in the carnivorous animals, the muscles descending from
the cheek-bones and upper jaw to raise the lip are strong,
and that the orbicular or circular fibres of the mouth
are feeble, the lip being attached to the forepart of the
gums. In the graminivorous animals, on the contrary,
the orbicular muscle has great power ; while the elevat-
ing and depressing muscles of the side of the mouth are
weak. But in man, both classes of muscles are combined ;
the elevating and depressing muscles are fully developed,
while the orbicular muscle completely antagonises them,
modulating and qualifying their actions, and bestowing
the utmost perfection on the motions of the lips.

Whether we look to the form of the features or to
their power of expression, the consideration of these two
classes of muscles alone will account for certain varieties
in the human face. In one man, the excitement of
passion may be indicated chiefly by the prevalence of
one class, while in a second, another class will pre-
dominate in the expression.

If it be allowable to give examples, I would say that
in the countenance of Mrs. Siddons, or Mr. John
Kemble, there was presented the highest character of
beauty which belongs to the true English face. In that
family the upper lip and nostrils were very expressive :
the class of muscles which operate on the nostrils was
especially powerful, and both these great tragedians had
a remarkable capacity for the expression of the nobler
passions. In their cast of features there was never seen
that blood-thirsty look which Cooke could throw into
his face. In him, the ringentes prevailed : and what
determined hate could he express, when, combined with
the oblique cast of his eyas, he drew up the outer part
of the upper lip, and disclosed a sharp angular tooth !
And is it not this lateral drawing of the lips, and
Stretching them upon the closed teeth, which make

126

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

the blood start from them, in remorseless hate and
rancour ?

But besides the muscles analogous to those of brutes,
others are introduced into the human face, which indi-
cate emotions and sympathies of which the lower animals
are not susceptible ; and as they are peculiar to man,
they may be considered as the index of mental energy,
in opposition to mere animal expression.

The most moveable and expressive features are the
inner extremity of the eyebrow and the angle of the
mouth ; and these are precisely the parts which have
least expression in brutes ; for they have no eyebrows,
and no power of elevating or depressing the angle of the
mouth. It is therefore in these features that we should
expect to find the muscles of expression peculiar to man.

The most remarkable muscle of the human face is
the corrugator supercilii (d, fig. p. 92), arising from the
frontal bone, near its union with the nasal bones, and
inserted into the skin of the eyebrow ; it knits the eye-
brows with an energetic effect, which unaccountably,
but irresistibly, conveys the idea of mind.

The frontal portion of the occipito-fron talis muscle (a,
fig. p. 92), is the antagonist of the orbicular muscle of the
eyelids. It is wanting in the animals which we have
examined ; and in its stead, fibres, more or less strong,
are found to be inserted directly into the eyelids.

The motion of the features which, next to that pro-
duced by the corrugator supercilii, is most expressive of
human passion and sentiment, is to be seen in the angle
of the mouth. At one time I conceived that this dis-
tinctive expression was chiefly owing to the superbus
(l, fig. p. 101), which elevates and protrudes the under
lip, but I was deceived. The character of human ex-
pression in the mouth is given by the triangularis oris,
or depressor anguli oris (h, fig. p. 101), a muscle which
J have not found in any of the lower animals; I

Or THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS. 127

believe it to be peculiar to man, and I can assign no
other use for it than that which belongs to expression.
It arises from the base of the lower jaw, and passes up to
be inserted, with the converging fibres of almost all
the muscles of the side of the face, into the corner of the
mouth : it produces that arching of the lip so expressive
of contempt, hatred, jealousy ; and in combination with
the elevator of the under lip, or superbus, and the
orbicularis, it has a larger share than any other muscle
in producing the infinite variety of motions in the
mouth, expressive of sentiment.

When we compare the muscles of the human head with
those of animals, we perceive many smaller distinctions,
which 1 shall not at present discuss. The depressor alee
nasi (d, fig. p. 99), the nasalis labii superioris (b, fig. p. 101),
the anterior fibres of the occipito frontalis (a, fig. p. 92),
are not found in the brute ; and in general, the more
minute and fasciculated structure of all the muscles of
the lips, in the face of man, shows a decided superiority
in the provision for motion of the features.

We have already observed, that the faces of animals
seem chiefly capable of expressing rage and fear; even
pain is indicated more in the voice, and in writhing
and struggling.

The rage of the graminivorous animal is chiefly visible
in the eye, in the inflation of the nostril, and in the
disturbed state of the body. It is expressed most
strongly by the carnivorous animals : in them it is
wild, ferocious, and terrifying. Their expression of
rage, so far as it appears in the face, is shewn by the
strong action of the ringentes, or snarling muscles, the
exposure of the canine teeth, the gnashing of the tusks,
and the brilliant excitement of the eye. The expression
of human rage partakes of both ; the corresponding
muscles of the lips and nostrils producing a similar
action to that in animals; an exposure and clenching

128

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

of the teeth ; a degree of sparkling of the eye, and an
inflation of the nostril. Of a face under the influence
of such actions, a spectator would infallibly say, that
the aspect was brutal, savage, and cruel. But when
the corrugator supercilii, a muscle peculiar to human
expression, is brought into action, the sign is altered.
The eyebrows are knit, the energy of mind is apparent,
and there is the mingling of thought and emotion with
the savage and brutal rage of the mere animal.

In man, the actions of the frontal muscle of the
corrugator supercilii, and of the orbicular muscle of
the mouth, give much expression. If instead of the
retraction of the lips and the exposure of the teeth, as
in the rage or pain of animals, the mouth is half
closed, the lips inflected by the circular fibres, and
drawn down by the action of the peculiarly human
muscle, the depressor anguli oris, then there is ex*
pressed more agony of mind than of mere bodily suffer-
ing, by a combination of muscular actions of which
animals are incapable.

The action of the orbicular muscle of the lips is, indeed,
the most characteristic of agony of mind, and of all those
passions which partake of sentiment; in grief, in vexation
of spirit, in weeping, it modifies the effect of the muscles
of animal expression, and produces human character.

Fear is characterised in animals by a mingling of
anger, and of preparation for defence, with a shrinking
of alarm in the more ferocious, and a straining of the
eye and inflation of the nostril, with trembling, in the
milder. In human fear and suspicion, the nostril is
inflated, and the eye has that backward, jealous, and
timid character which we see in the horse, and in the
gentler classes of animals.

The orbicular muscle of the lips, with the system of
elevating and depressing muscles in man, lead to ex-
pressions peculiarly human. And here I may observe,

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

129

that expression is not always tne effect of a contraction
of the muscles of the face, either general or partial. It
proceeds rather from a combined action of the muscles
when under passion ; for it is often the relaxation of a
certain class, more than their excitement, which gives
expression ; and of this, smiling and laughter furnish
the most apposite examples.

The capacity of receiving ludicrous ideas is as com-
pletely denied to animals as they are utterly incapable
»f the accompanying action of laughter. Dogs, in
_heir expression of fondness, have a slight eversion of
the lips, and grin and snuff amidst their frolic and
g iinbols, in a way that resembles laughter ; but in all
this there is nothing which truly approaches to human
expression. That is produced by the relaxation of the
orbicular muscle of the lips, and the consequent prepon-
derating action of the elevating muscles ; and, of course,
it can exist only in a face which possesses both the orbi-
cular and the straight muscles of the lips in perfection.

In the emotions of contempt, pride, suspicion, and
jealousy, the orbicular muscle and the triangularis oris,
produce by their combination the arching of the lips,
and the depression of the angle of the mouth. The
horizontal drawing of the lips, which just discloses the
teeth, and betrays the severe or bitter and malignant
passions, is owing to a more general action of the
muscles overcoming the opposition of the orbicularis.

In grief, the muscles of the eyebrow and those of the
lips are combined in expression ; hence the union of
that upward direction of the extremity of the eyebrow
characterising peevishness, discontent, and sinking of
the spirits, with the depression of the angle of the
mouth, which so distinctly indicates the harassed and
subdued state of mind.

By the combination of those muscles of expression
much of that various play of the features expressive

K

130

OF THE MUSCLES OF ANIMALS.

of human passions, as joy, hope, admiration, anxiety,
fear, horror, despair, is produced ; and thus, while the
human countenance is capable of expressing both the
rage of the more ferocious animals, and the timidity
of the milder, it possesses, by the consentaneous action
of a few super-added muscles, powers of expression
varying almost to infinity.

It is curious to observe how the muscles thus afford
a new occasion of distinguishing the classes of animals ;
and how, as signs of superior intelligence, they give
proofs of the endowments of man, and the excellence
of his nature. The full clear eye ; the arched and
moveable eyebrow ; the smooth and polished forehead ;
as indicating susceptibility of emotion, and power of
expression, are grand features of human character and
beauty ; and it is the perfection of beauty when the
spectator is made sensible of this inherent, this latent
power, even while no prevailing passion affects the
features. But a great portion of the beauty of the
human face is in the nose and the mouth ; in a nostril
which has a capacity for expression, without being too
membranous and inflatable, for that produces a mean
and imbecile kind of fierceness ; and in lips, at once
full and capable of those various modulations of form
which are necessary to speech and the indication of
human feeling.

( 131 >

ESSAY VI.

" Grief laments the absence, and fear apprehends the loss of
what we love ; desire pursues it ; hope has it in view ; and joy
triumphs in possession." *

OF EXPRESSION (CONTINUED).

We advance to the interesting subject of variable
expression in the human face. It is by the habit of
expression that the countenance is improved or de-
graded, and that the characters of virtue or vice are
imprinted. If hardship, misfortune, care, and, still
more, vice, are there habitually impressed, then all
that we admire is lost.

Peace, comfort, society, and agreeable studies, pre
serve the features mobile, and ready to conform, as an
index of the mind, to the sentiments we love. Petrarch,
Boccaccio, and Dante, dwell on the expression of th^ir
mistresses.")* Addison has justly said, " No woman can
be handsome by the force of features alone, any more
than she can be witty only by the help of speech."

The form of the face and the features are but the
groundwork of expression. The influence of passion

* Heylin, vol. i. p. 5.

f " Poi guardo Vamorosa e bella bocca —
La spaziosa fronte, e il vago piglio
Li bianehi denti, e il dritto naso, e il ciglio
Polito e brun tal che depinto pare."— Dante.

"Soave va a guisa di un bel pavune."

Decamerone Giornata, nr.

K 2

132

OF EXPRESSION.

on the body is a subject which has bee a discussed from
the first dawnings of philosophy. The Greeks did not
confine their study to the outward form of man ; they
also speculated on the habit of the body as affecting the
mind : and we insensibly use their language, although
the course of their ideas may be rejected or forgotten.
There are varieties in the forms, strength, temper, and
capacities of man. It has been well said that you
cannot tread on a man's toe without learning something
of his temper. One man will have his joke, although
it may hurt his dearest friend, and another has so little
imagination, that even in the delirium of fever he is dull.
Some are generous to profligacy, or frugal to meanness,
or gallant and true, or cowardly and insincere : these
varieties are a part of human nature, and necessary to
the constitution of society. But the ingenious reason ers
(if Ancient Greece ascribed the diversity of disposition
to the texture of the frame ; not to the features, nor to
the proportions or shape of the skull, but rather to
the mixture of the elements of the body; and more
to the fluids than to the solids. Those distinctions,
familiar to all, have in every succeeding age been at-
tributed to the humours. When we speak of the con
stitution, the temper, the humour of a man, we are in
truth adopting the language of Hippocrates, who treated
of the four radical humours, — the sanguineous, phleg-
matic, choleric, and melancholic.

Other philosophers have imagined that the disposi-
tions of man might have their source in his greater or
le^s resemblance to the brutes. It was then allowable
to fancy that a lion-like frame, strong hair, deep voice,
and powerful limbs, were combined with courage. But
our heroes are not of that mould. To be collected
amidst fire and smoke, and the deafening sounds of
battle — to marshal thousands — or to direct the vessel's
course, whilst exposed not only to wounds but to death,

OF EXPRESSION.

133

is true courage ; and in these days, it is witnessed in
the pale and fragile, more than in the strung and
sanguineous, or the bulky and hairy savage. We can
better estimate true coui age since combatants have been
divested of the helmet and mail.*

That the features indicate the disposition by resem-
bling those of animals, is an unjust and dangerous theory.
The comparison which we have made of the human
form and features with those of certain classes of
animals, is wry different from those speculations which
would lead us to condemn a man because of some re-
semblance in face to a brute, f

Notwithstanding the attraction of the engravings in
Lavater's work, the study of physiognomy is now
abandoned for that of the cranium. But I must repeat,
that the brain and the skull are constructed in strict
relation, — a perfect brain and a perfect skull are formed
together. And what is the perfection of the skull ?
The cranium is as a helmet, constituted for the pro-
tection of the brain ; and if so, must it not be adapted
to the forces it has to sustain or resist ? The skull is
most perfect when its forms indicate the best possible
provision for its peculiar use, the defence of the brain.

Let us attend more especially to the human passions.

* Sir G. N., in the assault of , killed his opponent. " Tho

soldier thrust at me with his bayonet. I parried, and passed my
sword through his body. In withdrawing it, I experienced a sen-
sation which will only leave me with life." A kindred spirit
expresses himself well. 44 The modern soldier is not the stern,
bloody-handed man the ancient soldier was ;" the ancient warrior,
fighting with the sword, and reaping the harvest of death when
the enemy was in flight, became habituated to the art of slaying.
'* The modern soldier sees not his peculiar victims fall, and exults
not over them as proof of personal prowess." Homer represents
Achilles as driving over the dead, till his chariot-wheels are dyed
in blood.

t This was the theory of Giambatista Porta, in his " Humana
Physiognomia." He was equally successful in detecting the
qualities of plants by their resemblance to animals.

134

LAUGHTER.

J do not mean to treat of all those conditions of mind
which are considered under the head of the passions,
sentiments, or emotions ; but to limit my inquiry to
that kind or degree of mental excitement, which draws
the frame into action, and which is interpreted by its
agitation ; when the spirits, by their vehemence, produce
uncontrollable movements of the body, not determined
by the will, but spontaneously arising with the state of
feeling, which they strengthen and direct.*

We shall begin, by marking the most extreme expres-
sion of the passions, — laughter and weeping. They suit
our purpose as being peculiarly human, arising fro^
sentiments not participated by the brutes.

It is vain to inquire into the sources of these emo-
tions; but I hope my reader consents to believe that
the capacity of expression is bestowed as a boon, a
mark of superior intelligence, and a source of enjoy-
ment ; and that its very nature is to excite sympathy ;
that it radiates, and is understood by all ; that it is
the bond of the human family.

LAUGHTER.

We have seen that the muscles which operate upon
the mouth are distinguishable into two classes, — those
which surround and control the lips, and those which
oppose them, and draw the mouth widely open. The
effect of a ludicrous idea is to relax the former, and tc
contract the latter ; hence, by a lateral stretching oi
the mouth, and a raising of the cheek to the lower

* Were we not to limit our inquiry to the agitations of the body
,ve should be embarrassed with the ambiguity of such words aa
passion, emotion, desire, inclination, appetite, the generous passions,
the passion of pride or of avarice : even the mere state of suffering
i& called passion.

Page, 134

Laughter

LAUGHTER.

135

eyelid, a smile is produced. The lips are, of all the
features, the most susceptible of action, and the most
direct index of the feelings.

If the idea be exceedingly ridiculous, It is in vain
that we endeavour to restrain this relaxation, and to
compress the lips. The muscles concentring to the
mouth prevail ; they become more and more influenced ;
the}7 retract the lips, and display the teeth. The
cheeks are more powerfully drawn up, the eyelids
wrinkled, and the eye almost concealed. The lachrymal
gland within the orbit is compressed by the pressure
on the eyeball, and the eye suffused with tears.

Simple and passive pleasures, the delight of meeting
or the contemplation of innocence, relax the lips and
dimple the cheek, whilst the eyes are bright and in-
telligent. The dimple is formed by the muscles which
are inserted in the angle of the mouth acting on the
plump integument of infancy and youth.

Observe the condition of a man convulsed with
laughter, and consider what are the organs or system
of parts affected. He draws a full breath, and throws
i j out in interrupted, short, and audible cachinnations ;
the muscles of his throat, neck, and chest, are agitated ;
the diaphragm is especially convulsed. He holds his
sides, and, from the violent agitation, he is incapable of
a voluntary act.

It is impossible to avoid the conclusion, that it is
the respiratory organs and their muscles which are
affected during the paroxysm of laughter. Physiologists,
in all former times, attributed the line of sympathetic
relations which draw these remote parts into action,
to a nerve called the sympathetic. But I have proved,
that there is a machinery altogether distinct ; and that
the expression, not only of this, but of all the other
passions, arises from that system of nerves, which, from
their great office, I have called respiratory.

136

WLjrfPING.

The respiratory nerves spring from a common centra
in the medulla oblongata,* and pass off divergingly to
all the parts just enumerated, and to every organ
employed in respiration. They combine these distant
parts in the ordinary action of breathing ; and they
are the agents in all the effects of passion, when
these organs give the outward signs of the condition
of the mind.

WEKriNG.f

Weeping is another state of the features, proceeding,
as we have before observed, from sensibility ; and,
therefore, human. Though the organs affected are the
same as in laughter, viz., the respiratory muscles, the
Bxpression is as much opposed as the nature of the
emotion which produces it. Were the condition of the
features the effect of mere excitement, why should there
be an association of the same class of muscles, so
different from that in laughter? Is not this variety
of expression a proof of design, and that all our
emotions are intended to have their appropriate out-
ward characters?

According to Homer, the expression of weeping is
not confined to babes; Ulysses is made to feel that
sensation in his nose which precedes the shedding of
tears.

The lachrymal glands are the first to be affected ; then
the eyelids ; and finally, the whole converging muscles
of the cheeks. The lips are drawn aside, not from

The medulla oblongata is that part of the nervous system
which is traced from the brain into the tube of the spine; it is,
consequently, the upper part of the spinal marrow.

t I have thrown the expression of weeping, from pain, into the
face ot a Faun : for such expression is inexpressibly mean and
ludicrous in the countenance of a man.

Page 136

"WEEPING

WEEPING.

137

their circular fibres relaxing, as in laughter, but from
their being forcibly retracted by the superior influence
of their antagonist muscles. Instead of the joyous
elevation of the cheeks, the muscle which pulls down
the angle of the mouth, triangularis oris, is more under
influence, and the angle is depressed. The cheeks are
thus drawn between two adverse powers : the muscles
which surround the eyelids, and that which depresses
the lower lip.

The same cause which drew the diaphragm and
muscles of the chest into action in laughing is perceived
here. The diaphragm is spasmodically and irregularly
affected ; the chest and throat are influenced ; the
breathing is cut by sobbing; the inspiration is hurried,
and the expiration is slow with a melancholy note. In
the violence of weeping, accompanied with lamentation,
the face is flushed, or rather suffused by stagnant blood,
and the veins of the forehead distended. In this we
see the effect of the impeded action of the chest ; a
proof, not only that it is the respiratory system of
nerves which is affected, but also of the condition of
the heart, and its influence in respiration, of which
we have spoken in a former essay. This expression of
emotion may be introduced even in the highest walks
of art ; but it requires great taste to portray it with-
out offensive exaggeration.*

* " The finest possible example of this condition of suffering U
in the picture of Guercino (in the Gallery of Milan), the 4 Departure
of Hagar and Ishmael.' Those who have seen only the engraving
can have little conception of the beauty of the picture, for the per-
fection is in the colouring. Hagar has been weeping ; her eyes are
red and swollen, but not so as to destroy her beauty ; she turns
again on hearing Abraham once more addressing her; she suspends
her breath, you persuade yourself that you hear her short con-
vulsive sobs ; for in the elevated shoulders and in the form of the
open lips, this is plainly indicated. The suffering expressed in the
condition of the chest, the misery in the forehead, and the colour-
ing of the eyelids, make this the finest example of expression which
I have seen." — Note from Journal.

138

WEEPING.

The depression of the angle of the month gives an
air of despondence and languor when accompanied by
a general relaxation of the features, or, in other words,
of the muscles. When the corrurjator which knits the
brows co-operates with it, there is mingled in the
expression something of mental energy, of morosei? ss,
or pain. If the frontal mus-de adds its operation,
there is an acute turning upwards of the inner part
of the eyebrow, characteristic of anguish, debilitating
pain, or of discontent, according to the prevailing cast
of the rest of the countenance.

But while languor and despondency are indicated
by depression of the angle of the mouth, the depression
must be slight, not violent : for the depressor anguli oris
cannot act strongly without the combination of the
levator menti or superbus, which quickly produces a
change in the expression, by making the nether lip
pout contemptuously.

In sorrow, a general languor pervades the whole
countenance. The violence and tension of grief, the
lamentations, and the tumult, like all strong excite-
ments, gradually exhaust the frame. Sadness and
regret, with depression of spirits and fond recollections,
succeed ; and lassitude of the whole body, with dejec-
tion of the face and heaviness of the eyes, are the most
striking characteristics. The lips are relaxed and the
lower jaw drops ; the upper e}Telid f alls and half covers
the pupil of the eye. The eye is frequently filled
with tears, and the eyebrows take an inclination
similar to that which the depressors of the angles
of the lips give to the mouth.*

I am not quite sure that in the distress of Constance

* Some have been so far deceived by the effect of this raising ot
the eyebrows towards the centre of the forehead as to give the same
oblique line to the eyes ; but the can thus or angle of the eye ia
fixed iniLioveably, and no working of p.ission can alter it.

WEEPING.

139

there is not an unnatural mixture of the tumult and
violence of grief with the contemplative recollections
of sorrow. Her impatience and turbulence, which
make her tear her hair, defy all counsel and redress
and call on death or madness as her sole relief, seem
ill assorted with that calmness of spirit which can
stop to recollect and enumerate in detail the figure
and endearing manners of her son.

Gref fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ;
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Hem embers me of all his gracious parts,
►Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form :
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.
Fare you well ! had you had such a loss as I,
1 could give better comfort than you do. —
I will not keep this form upon my head

[tearing off her head-dress.']
When there is such disorder in my wit.
O Lord ! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son !
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world !
My widow's comfort, and my sorrows' cure ! " *

This appears rather to be the stage of the passion
which is called sorrow ; the indulgence of which is
attended with a melancholy delight which can sanction
the conclusion, " Then have I reason to be fond of
grief." Yet, as conviction returns at intervals upon
the mind, a period of quiet and sorrowful resignation
is succeeded by starts and violent bursts of grief.

Though grief is in general distinguished by its
violence, lamentation, and tumult, while sorrow is
silent, deep brooding, and full of depression, there is
a stupefaction which sometimes characterises grief, " the
lethargy of woe."

We have already had occasion to remark, that ex-
pressions, peculiarly human, chiefly affect the angle ol

* King John, Act iii. Scone 4.

140

WEEPING.

the mouth and the inner extremity of the eyebrow;
an< to these points we must principally attend in all
ro;: observations concerning the expression of passion.
They are the most moveable parts of the face ; in
them, the muscles concentre, and upon the changes
which they undergo, expression is acknowledged chiefly
to depend. To demonstrate their importance, we have
only to repeat the experiment made by Peter of
Cortona ; to sketch a placid countenance, and touch
lightly with the pencil the angle of the lips and the
inner extremity of the eyebrows. By elevating or
depressing these, we shall quickly convey the expression
of grief or of laughter.

These parts, however, and all the features of an
impassioned countenance, have an accordance with each
other. When the angles of the mouth are depressed
in grief, the eyebrows are not elevated at the outer
angles as in laughter. When a smile plays around
the mouth, or the cheek is raised in laughter, the brows
are not ruffled as in grief. The characters of such
opposite passions are so distinct, that they cannot be
combined where there is true and genuine emotion.
When we see them combined, it is by those who
have an unnatural control over their muscles, and
the expression is farcical and ridiculous. It is an un-
worthy conceit to give to one side of the face comedy
and to the other tragedy.

In the features of an impassioned countenance there
is a consent and accordance of expression. It is not
upon a single feature that the emotion operates ; but
the whole face is marked with expression, all the move-
ments of which are consentaneous. This is referable to
some cause acting generally on the tone and state of the
frame: the peculiar expression of individual emotion
being distinguished by the action and determination of
certain features.

KEEPING.

141

Taking indifference as the line of distinction between
fche two great classes of pain and of pleasure, the
sensations above this line are weak compared with
those below it. The simple sensations of pleasure,
before they are heightened and diversified by the
multiplied associations of mental affection, are soft and
gentle in their nature. The class of painful sensations
is powerful and overwhelming ; they are meant as our
guardians and protectors against danger and death, and
they operate with resistless force. The pleasurable
sensations induce a languor and delight, partaking of
the quality of indulgence and relaxation ; the painful
excite to the most violent tension, and make the mus-
cular frame start into convulsive action.

The emotions and passions, grounded on these great
classes of sensation, raised and increased by the
mingling of hopes and fears, and the combination of
analogous and associated images of delight or of dan-
ger, derive their most important traits of expression
from the general tone of pleasure or of pain.

In pain, the body is exerted to violent tension, and
all the emotions and passions allied to pain, or having
their origin and foundation in painful sensations, have
this general distinction of character, that there is an
energetic action or tremor, the effect of universal and
great excitement. It must at the same time be re-
membered, that all the passions of this class, some
more immediately, others more indirectly, produce in
the second stage exhaustion, debility, and loss of tone,
from over-exertion.

On the other hand, as pleasure is characterised by
languor, tranquillity, and relaxation, all the emotions
related to it, or deducible from pleasurable sensations,
are felt in the prevailing state of the system — a degree
of inaction, and as it were forgetfulness of bodily
exertion, and an indulgence in mental contempla-

142

WEEPING.

tion.* The contemplation of beauty, or the admiration
of soft music, produces a sense of langour; the body
reclines ; the lips are half opened ; the eyes have a
softened lustre from the falling of the eyelids ; the
breathing is slow; and from the absolute neglect of
bodily sensation, and the temporary interruption of
xespiration, there is a frequent low-drawn sigh.

* " Here (Accademia della Belle Arte, Bologna) are two pictures
which one naturally compares. On the one side is the St. Cecilia ;
on the other, the Murder of the Innocents. In the St. Cecilia of
Raphael, in ecstasy, there is not only great beauty, but very fine
expression. She hears the music of angels ; her face is turned
upwards ; the features composed and fine. In the lower part of
the face there is a gentle relaxation, almost a smile ; the eyes are
directed upwards, but the eyebrow is placid. She is so wrapt, that
the pipes of the organ are almost falling from the hands, which
hang without exertion.

" In the picture of the Murder of the Innocents, by Guido Reni,
there is an admirable figure of a woman, wild and full of fire, who
flies with her infant pressed to her bosom. But there is another,
whose face is in the very attitude of the Cecilia, yet how different !
The murder of her child has been perpetrated ; the child lies dead
before her ; she is on her knees ; her hands are clasped, and she
looks up to heaven ; her mouth is open, and all the features relaxed.
The hair and dress are deranged. What, then, is the difference in
expression, for there is a certain resemblance in the form and
attitude of these heads ? What is the difference between the
relaxation of despair and of enjoyment? the relaxed jaw, and
open mouth, and troubled forehead of the one, — the softness and
languor, with a certain firmness in the lips of the other." — Note
from Journal.

( 143 )

ESSAY VII.

THE SUBJECT CONTINUED; — OF PAIN — HORROR — CONVULSIONS

DEMONIACS DEATH.

The further we proceed in this inquiry the more
difficult and delicate does it become. In continuing
the subject, I shall rather indulge in detached remarks
than pretend to follow a regular course ; keeping, I
hope, still true to the observation of nature, and, as
far as possible, unprejudiced by theory.

Pain is affirmed to be unqualified evil ; yet pain is
necessary to our existence ; at birth, it rouses the dor-
mant faculties, and gives us consciousness. To imagine
the absence of pain, is not only to imagine a new state
of being, but a change in the earth, and all upon it.
As inhabitants of earth, and as a consequence of the
great law of gravitation, the human body must have
weight. It must have bones, as columns of support,
and levers for the action of its muscles ; and this
mechanical structure implies a complication and de-
licacy of texture beyond our conception. For that fine
texture a sensibility to pain is destined to be the pro-
tection ; it is the safeguard of the body ; it makes us
alive to those injuries which would otherwise destroy
us, and warns us to avoid them.

When, therefore, the philosopher asks why were not
our actions performed at the suggestions of pressure,
he imagines man, not constituted as he is, but as if he
belonged to a world in which there was neither weight,
nor pressure, nor anything injurious, where, there were

144

PAIN.

no dangers to apprehend, no difficulties to overcome,
and no call for exertion, resolution, or courage. It
would, indeed, be a curious speculation to follow out
the consequences on the highest qualities of the mind,
if we could suppose man thus free from all bodih*
suffering.

But I return to the position, that pain is the great
safeguard of the frame, and now proceed to examine
its expression.

In bodily pain the jaws are fixed, and the teeth
grind ; the lips are drawn laterally, the nostrils dilated ;
the eyes are largely uncovered and the eyebrows
raised ; the face is turgid with blood, and the veins
of the temple and forehead distended ; the breath
being checked, and the descent of blood from the head
impeded by the agony of the chest, the cutaneous
muscle of the neck acts strongly, and draws down
the angles of the mouth. But when joined to this,
the man cries out, the lips are retracted, and the
mouth open ; and we find the muscles of his body rigid,
straining, struggling. If the pain be excessive he
becomes insensible, and the chest is affected by sudden
spasms. On recovering consciousness, he is incoherent,
till again roused by suffering. In bodily pain con-
joined with distress of mind, the eyebrows are knit,
while their inner extremities are raised ; the pupils
are in part concealed by the upper eyelids ; and the
nostrils are agitated.

The expression of pain is distinguished from that
of weeping not less than from that of laughing. These
arise from mental conditions, independent of physical
causes, and are uncontrollable and sympathetic. But pain
is bodily ; that is to say, there is a positive nervous
sensation, which excites to action, or to acts of volition ;
an energy of the whole frame is produced by suffering,
%nd, fron? the consciousness of its place or source, the

Page, 14-4

PAIN

DEMONIACS.

145

efforts are directed to remove it. Hence the struggle,
the powerful and voluntary exertions which accompany
it. Yet there is a resemblance and, in some degree, an
illiance between these actions and the spasms excited
by galvanism in experiments on the nerves of animals
apparently dead.

OF DEMONIACS.

"He has a Devil." — Two of the greatest painters,
Raphael and Domenichino, have painted demoniacal
boys. In the convent of the Grotto Ferrata, in the
neighbourhood of Eome, Domenichino has represented
Saint Nilus in the act of relieving a lad possessed.*
The saint, an old man, is on his knees in prayer ; the
lad is raised and held up by an aged man ; the mother
with a child is waiting the consummation of the
miracle. Convulsions have seized the lad ; he is
rigidly bent back ; the lower limbs spasmodically ex-
tended, so that his toes only rest on the ground ; the
eyes are distorted, and the pupils turned up under
the eyelids. This would be the position of Opisthoto-
nos, were not the hands spread abroad, the palms and
fingers open, and the jaw fallen. Had the representa-
tion been perfectly true to nature, the jaws would
have been clenched, and the teeth grinding. But then
the miracle could not have been represented, for one,

* " Domenichino, in consequence of some peccadillo, took shelter
in the sanctuary of the monks of the Grotto Ferrata, a fortified
convent some miles distant from Eome. The monks, under the
threat of delivering him up, made him paint their walls; and the
frescoes are, indeed, beautiful, particularly the old men. That
compartment which is called the Demoniac Boy, is most admired."
~-Note from Journal.

L

146

DEMONIACS.

under the direction of the saint, has the finger of his
left hand in the boy's month, and the other holds a
vessel of oil, with which the tongue is to be touched
The drawing and colouring exhibited in the lad, and
the grandeur of the old man, make this one of the
most admired paintings in Italy.

I have here given a sketch of the true Opisthotonos,
where it is seen that all the muscles are rigidly con-
tracted, the more powerful flexors prevailing over the
extensors. Were the painter to represent every cir-
cumstance faithfully the effect might be too painful,
and something must be left to his taste and imagina-
tion.*

It may be considered bold to criticise the works
of Kaphael ; but I venture to say that, if that great
master intended, in his cartoon of the Death of Ananias,
to excite horror, the effect would have been more
powerful, if there had been greater truth in the con-
vulsions of the chief figure, instead of a mere twisting
of the body. Strange it is, but true, that we are most
affected by the more slight, if correct, portraiture of a
natural condition.

In the same painter's great picture of the Trans-
figuration, in the Vatican, there is a lad possessed,
and in convulsions. I hope I am not insensible to the
beauties of that picture, nor presumptuous in saying
that the figure is not natural. A physician would
conclude that this youth was feigning. He is, I pre-
sume, convulsed ; he is stiffened with contractions, and
his eyes turned in their sockets. But no child was
ever so affected. In real convulsions, the extensor
muscles yield to the more powerftu contractions of

* The original sketch is in the College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
J took it fiom soldiers wounded in the head, at the battle of
iorimna. Three men were similarly hurt, and in short succes-
sive intervals similarly affected, so that the character could not
fe mistaken.

CONVULSIONS.

147

the flexor muscles; whereas, in the picture, the lad
extends his arms; and the fingers of the left hand
are stretched unnaturally backwards. Nor do the
lower extremities correspond with truth; he stands
firm ; the eyes are not natural, they should have been
turned more inwards, as looking into the head, and
partially buried under the forehead. The mouth, too,
is open, which is quite at variance with the general
condition, and without the apology which Domenichino
had. The muscles of the arms are exaggerated to a
degree which Michael Angelo never attempted; and
still it is the extensors and supinators, and not the
flexors, which are thus prominent.

Disease has characteristic symptoms, which we can
accurately and scientifically reduce to description ; and
borrowing from this source, there is no state of suffering
from which we can so well infer the nature of the agita-
tion of the frame as from hydrophobia. The patient
being sensible of his condition, and calm, and aware
of the experiment which is to be made upon him by
his physician, when he calls for a glass of water, can-
not resist the influence of the disease. He shudders,
his face assumes an expression of extreme horror and
alarm ; convulsive gulpings take place in his throat ;
he flies to some support, and clings to the bedpost in an
agony of suffocation. This I have witnessed in a
powerful man. I have had the pain of seeing the
disease in a girl of eighteen. The irritability of the
skin being increased to an awful degree, so that the
touch of her long hair falling on her naked body, ex-
cited, as she said, the paroxysms. These recurred with
a sense of choking, with sudden and convulsive heav-
ings of the chest, a shuddering, and catching of the
muscles of breathing, and an appalling expression of
suffering. The paroxysms in such a case becoming
more frequent and severe, finally exhaust the powers

148

FEAR.

of life. In these convulsions it is the nervous and
muscular systems belonging to the natural function of
respiration which are affected ; and as they are also the
organs of expression, the condition is seen not only in
the countenance, but in the throat and chest, to be
that of extreme horror.

FEAR.

" Nam Timor unus erat, facies non una timoris,
Pars laniat crines, pars sine mente sedet.
Altera moesta silet, frustra vocat altera matrem,
Hsec queritur, stupet hsec, hsec ragit, ilia manet."

Ovid, be Arte Amandi.

So Ovid describes the Sabine virgins ; and such the
tumultuary and distracted state of mind produced by
fear. u And there is good reason for this, because in
a sudden daunt and onset of an unexpected evil, the
spirits which were before orderly carried by their
several due motions unto their natural works, are upon
this strange appearance and instant oppression of danger
so disordered, mixed, and stifled, that there is no power
left either in the soul for counsel, or in the body for
execution." In mere bodily fear there is mere animal
expression and meanness. The breath is drawn and
the respiration suspended ; the body fixed, and power-
less ; the eyes riveted, or searching and unsteady ; and
the action undetermined.

Mr. Burke, in his speculations on fear, assimilates
it, with perhaps too little discrimination, to pain. " A •
man in great pain," he observes, " has his teeth set ;
his eyebrows are violently contracted ; his forehead fa
wrinkled; his eyes are dragged inwards, and rolled

CO

FEAR.

149

with great vehemence ; his hair stands on end ; his
voice is forced out in short shrieks and groans ; and
the whole fabric totters." — " Fear or terror," he con
tinues, " which is an apprehension of pain or death,
exhibits exactly the same effects, approaching in
violence to those just mentioned, in proportion to the
nearness of the cause, and the weakness of the
subject." *

But there is one distinguishing feature of the two
conditions : the immediate effect of pain is to produce
an energetic action and tension of the whole frame ;
that of fear is to relax all the energy of mind and of
body — to paralyse, as it were, every muscle. Mr. Burke
seems to have written loosely, partly from forgetting
that pain and fear are often combined, and partly from
taking a view of the subject too much limited to the
particular conclusion which he wished to enforce.
There cannot be great pain without its being attended
by the distraction of doubts and fears ; the dread even
of death is a natural consequence of extreme pain, and
so the expression of fear in the countenance is fre-
quently mingled with that of pain. But, perhaps, there
are few passions which may not be assimilated by such
combinations ; fear and hatred ; hatred and rage ; rage
and vengeance and remorse. On the other hand, con
fining ourselves to simple bodily fear, there is much
truth in the observation of this eloquent writer. The
fear of boiling water falling on the legs, gives an ex-
pression of the anticipation of scalding, resembling the
meaner expression of bodily pain. As Mr. Burke says,
fear in the dog will no doubt be that of the lash, and
he will yelp and howl as if he actually felt the blows ;
and this indeed is the only kind of fear which brutes
know. The higher degrees of fear, in which the mind

* Sublime and Beautiful, Part IV. sect. 3. Cause of Pain and
Fear.

150

FEAE.

operates, and which we shall see characterised in the
countenance by an expression peculiar to mental energy,
do not appear in them.

In man, the expression of mere bodily fear is like
that of animals, without dignity ; it is the mean an-
ticipation of pain. The eyeball is largely uncovered,
the eyes are staring, and the eyebrows elevated to the
utmost stretch. There is a spasmodic affection of the
diaphragm and muscles of the chest, disturbing the
breathing, producing a gasping in the throat, with an
inflation of the nostril, convulsive opening of the mouth,
and dropping of the jaw ; the lips nearly conceal the
teeth, yet allow the tongue to be seen, the space
between the nostril and the lip being full. There is
a hollowness and convulsive motion of the cheeks, and
a trembling of the lips, and muscles on the side of the
neck. The lungs are kept distended, while the breath-
ing is short and rapid. From the connection of the
nerves of the lungs and diaphragm with those of the
side of the neck, and with the branches which supply
the cutaneous muscle of the cheek and neck, we may
comprehend the cause of the convulsive motion of this
muscle.* The aspect is pale and cadaverous from the
receding of the blood. The hair is lifted up by tho
creeping of the skin, and action of the occipito-
frontalis.

In the preceding sketch, I have endeavoured to
express fear mingled with wonder. But if we should
suppose the fear there represented, to have arisen from
apprehended danger still remote, and that the object of
fear approaches, and is now about to cleave to the
person, he trembles, looks pale, has a cold sweat on his
face, and in proportion as the imagination has less room
to range in, as the danger is more distinctly visible, the
expression partakes more of actual bodily pain. The
* See Essay 011 the Nerves.

FEAK.

151

scream of f3ar is heard, the eyes start forward, the lips
are drawn wide, the hands are clenched, and the ex-
pression becomes more strictly animal, and indicative of
such fear as is common to brutes.*

* I shall here transcribe a portion from my brother's volume on
Italy. Mr. John Bell travelled in declining health ; and died in
Rome, in ] 820. He had written a great deal with a pencil, in the
course of his journey : and no less than thirty small volumes of
notes, thus jotted down on his knee, were submitted by his widow
to Professor Bell and myself. In these we saw much to admire ;
but knowing how much would have been changed and corrected
had our brother lived, we thought them unfit for publication. Of
the many striking passages in the work, the following may be
selected as relating to the present subject : —

" Turin. The Execution of an Assassin,— 1 found myself opposite
to the distracted criminal whom they were conducting to execution
in all the agonies of terror and despair. He was seated in a black
car, preceded by arquebusiers, on horseback, carrying their cara-
bines pointed forward. These were followed by a band of priests,
clothed in long black robes, singing, in deep and solemn tones, a
slow mournful dirge, — part of the service for the dead. A hot
burning sun shone with a flood of light ; and, though it was mid-
day, such was the silence, and such the power and effect of this
solemn chant, that its sound was re-echoed from every distant
street. The brothers of the Misericordia, clothed in black, and
masked, walked by the side of the car, and joined in the chant.
On the steps of the car sat a man bearing a flag, on which Death
was represented in the usual forms, and on which was inscribed in
Latin (if I read it rightly), ' Death has touched me with his fingers/
or * Death has laid his hands on me.' On each side of the car, the
officiating priests were seated ; and in the centre, sat the criminal
himself. It was impossible to witness the condition of this unhappy
wretch without terror ; and yet, as if impelled by some strange in-
fatuation, it was equally impossible not to gaze upon an object so
wild, so full of horror. He seemed about thirty-five years of age ;
of large and muscular form; his countenance marked by strong
and savage features; half naked, pale as death, agonised with
terror, every limb strained in anguish, his hands clenched convul-
sively, the sweat breaking out on his bent and contracted brow, he
kissed incessantly the figure of our Saviour, painted on the flag
which was suspended before him ; but with an agony of wildness
and despair, of which, nothing ever exhibited on the stage can
give the slightest conception. I could not refrain from moralising
upon the scene here presented. The horror that the priest had
excited in the soul of this savage, was greater than the fear of the
most cruel death could ever have produced. But the terrors thus

152

TERKOR.

1 should apply the name of terror to that kind of fear
in which there is a strong working of the imagination,
and which is therefore peculiar to man. The eye is
bewildered ; the inner extremity of the eyebrows is
elevated, and strongly knit by the action of the cor-
rugator ; thus producing an expression of distracting
thought, anxiety, and alarm, and one which does not
belong to animals. The cheek is a little raised, and all
the muscles which are concentred about the mouth are
active ; there being a kind of modulating action in the
circular muscle of the lips, which keeps the mouth
partially open. The cutaneous muscle of the neck, the
plat3^sma myoides, is strongly contracted, and its fibres
may be seen starting into action like cords, under the
skin, and dragging powerfully on the angles of the
mouth. The imagination wanders ; there is an inde-
cision in the action, the steps are furtive and unequal,
there is a spasm which hinders speech, and the colour
of the cheeks vanishes.

" Canst thou quake and change thy colour,
Murther thy breath in middle of a word,
And then again begin, and stop again,
As if thou wast distraught and mad with terror?"*

"When mingled with astonishment, terror is fixed and
mute. The fugitive and unnerved steps of mere terror
are then changed for the rooted and motionless figure of

raised, were the superstitions of an ignorant and bewildered mind,
bereft of animal courage, and impressed with some confused belief,
that eternal safety was to be instantly secured by external marks of
homage to the image. There was here none of the composed,
conscious, awful penitence of a Christian ; and it was evident, that
the priest was anxious only to produce a being in the near prospect
of death, whose condition should alarm all that looked on him.
The attempt was successful."'— Observations on Italy, p. 48. By
the late John Bell. Published by his Widow. Edinburgh, 1825,
* Kichard III. Act iii. Scene 5.

Page, 152

TERROR

DESPAIR.

153

a creature appalled and stupified. Spenser characterises
well this kind of terror : —

" He answered nought at all : but adding new

Fear to his first amazement, staring wide

With stony eyes, and heartless hollow hue,

Astonish'd stood, as one that had espy'd

Infernal furies with their chains unty'd.
* * * * *

But trembling every joint did inly quake,
And falt'ring tongue at last these words seem'd forth to shake."*

Horror differs from both fear and terror, although
more nearly allied to the last than to the first. It is
superior to both in this, that it is less imbued with
personal alarm. It is more full of sympathy with the
Bufferings of others, than engaged with our own. We
are struck with horror even at the spectacle of artificial
distress, but it is peculiarly excited by the real danger
or pain of another. We see a child in the hazard
of being crushed by an enormous weight, with sensa-
tions of extreme horror. Horror is full of energy ; the
body is in the utmost tension, not unnerved, by fear.
The flesh creeps, and a sensation of cold seems to chill
the blood ; the term is applicable of " damp horror."

Despair is a mingled emotion. While terror is in
some measure the balancing and distraction of a mind
occupied with an uncertainty of danger, despair is the
total wreck of hope, the terrible assurance of ruin
having closed around, beyond all power of escape,
The expression of despair must vary with the nature of
the distress of which it forms the acme. In certain
circumstances it will assume a bewildered, distracted
air, as if madness were likely to be the only close to the
mental agony. Sometimes there is at once a wildness
in the looks and total relaxation, as if falling into
Insensibility ; :r there is upon the countenance of the

* Faery Queen, Book i. cant. 9, s. 24,

154

DESPAIR.

desperate man a horrid gloom ; the eye is fixed, yet ho
neither sees nor hears aught, nor is sensible of what
surrounds him. The features are shrunk and livid,
and convulsion and tremors affect the muscles of the
face. Hogarth has chosen well the scene of his picture
of despair. In a gaming-house, the wreck of all hope
affects, in a thousand various ways, the victims of this
vice ; but in every representation of despair, an incon-
solable and total abandonment of those exertions to
which hope inspirits and excites a man, forms an
essential feature. We have two fine descriptions of
despair given in detail by English poets. One is by
Spenser :

" The darksome cave they enter, where they find
That cursed man, low sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his sullen mind ;
His greazy locks, long growing and unbound,
Disorder'd hung about his shoulders round,
And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne
Look, deadly dull, and stared as astound ;
His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine,

Where shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine."*

The other is in the tragedy of the " Gamester,"
where Beverley, after heart-rending reiteration of hope
and disappointment, having staked the last resource of
his wife and family on one fatal throw, finds himself
suddenly plunged into ruin.

" When all was lost, he fixed his eyes upon the
ground, and stood some time with folded arms stupid
and motionless : then snatching his sword that hung
against the wainscot, he sat him down, and with a look
of fixed attention drew figures on the floor. At last he
started up ; looked wild and trembled ; and, like a
woman seized with her sex's fits, laughed out aloud,
while the tears trickled down his face. So he left the
room."

* Faery Queen, Book i. cant, 9, s. Bi

ADMIRATION.

155

A painter may have to represent terror, despair,
astonishment, and supernatural awe, mingled in one
powerful expression of emotion. In a mind racked
with deep despair, conscious of strength and courage,
but withered and subdued by supernatural agency,
the expression is quite removed from all meanness ;
it must be preserved grand and terrific ; the hero
may still appear, though palpitating and drained of
vigour.

Milton has admirably ske-tched the nerveless stupe-
faction of mingled astonishment and horror : —

" On th' other side, Adam, soon as he heard
The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd,
Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill
Ran through his veins, and all his joints relax'd ;
From his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve
Down dropp'd, and all the faded roses shed :
Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length
First to himself he inward silence broke." *

In admiration, the faculty of sight is enjoyed to the
utmost, and all else is forgotten. The brow is expanded
and unruffled, the eyebrow gently raised, the eyelid
lifted so as to expose the coloured circle of the eye,
while the lower part of the face is relaxed in a gentle
smile. The mouth is open, the jaw a little fallen,
and by the relaxation of the lower lip we just perceive
the edge of the lower teeth and the tongue. The
posture of the body is most expressive when it seems
arrested in some familiar action.

Joy is distinguishable from pleasure. It consists,
not so much in the sense of gratification, as in the
delight of the conviction that the long-expected
pleasure is within our reach, and the lively anticipation
of the enjoyment which is now decked out in its most
favourite and alluring shape. A certain sensation oi

* Paradise Lost, Book i*. ver. 888.

156

JOT.

want is mingled with joy; a recollection of the alter-
nate hopes and fears which formerly distracted the
mind, contrasted with the immediate assurance ol
gratification.

In joy the eyebrow is raised moderately, but without
any angularity ; the forehead is smooth ; the eye fall,
lively, and sparkling ; the nostril is moderately in-
flated, and a smile is on the lips. In all the exhilarating
emotions, the eyebrow, the eyelid, the nostril, and the
angle of the mouth are raised. In the depressing
passions it is the reverse. For example, in discontent
the brow is clouded, the nose peculiarly arched, and the
angle of the mouth drawn down.

Contrasted with joy is the testy, pettish, peevish
countenance bred of melancholy; as of one who is
incapable of receiving satisfaction from whatever source
it may be offered; who cannot endure any man to look
steadily upon him, or even speak to him, or laugh, or
jest, or be familiar, or hem, or point, without thinking
himself contemned, insulted, or neglected.

The arching of the mouth and peculiar form of the
wings of the nose are produced by the conjoint action
of the triangular muscle which depresses the angles of
the mouth, and the superbus, whose individual action
protrudes the lower lip. The very peevish turn given to
the eyebrows, the acute upward inflection of their inner
extremities, and the meeting of the perpendicular and
transverse furrows in the middle of the forehead, are
produced by the opposed action of part of the frontal
muscle and of the corrugator.

Habitual suspicion and jealousy are symptoms and
accompaniments of melancholy. Envy may be classed
with these expressions ; but it is an ungenerous re-
pining, not a momentary passion.* "It consumes a

* " La invidia, crudelissimo dolore di animo, per ll bene altnri,
fa ritirar tutti i membri, come contraere et offuscar le ciglie, stringere

Page 156

JEALOUSY

JEALOUSY.

man as a moth does a garment, to be a living anatomy,
a skeleton— to be a lean and pale carcass quickened
with the fiend — ' intabescetque vivendo' "

Suspicion is characterised by earnest attention, with
a certain timorous obliquity of the eyes : —

" Foul ill-favoured and grim,
Under his eyebrows looking still askance;
And ever as Dissemblance laughed on him,
He lour'd on her with dangerous eye glance,
Showing his nature in his countenance :
His rolling eyes did never rest in place,
But walk'd each where, for fear of hid mischaunce,
Holding a lattice still before his face,
Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace." *

Jealousy is marked by a more frowning and dark
obliquity of the eyes, as if it said, " I have an eye on
yon;" with the lowering eyebrow is combined a cruel
expression of the lower part of the face.

Jealousy is a fitful and unsteady passion: its chief
character is in the rapid vicissitudes from love to hate ;
now absent, moody, and distressed ; now courting love ;
now ferocious and revengeful ; these changes make it a
difficult subject for the painter ; and it is only in poetry
that it can be truly presented in the vivid colours of
nature. Even among poets, Shakspeare alone seems to
have been equal to the task. Sometimes it may be
personified in the face of a mean, suspicious, yet op-
pressed creature; or again in a lowering expression,
the body as if shrunk into itself; like that of one
brooding over his condition, and piecing out a tissue
of trifling incidents to abuse his judgment.

i denti, ritirar le labbra, torcersi con certa passione di sguardo quasi
m atto di volere intendere et spiare i fatti altrui" &c.— Lomazzo
p. 130.

* Faery Queen, Book iii. c. 12, s. 15.

BAGE.

In jealousy the eyebrows are knit, and the eyelid so
fully lifted as almost to disappear, while the eyeball
glares from under the bushy eyebrow. There is a
general tension of the muscles which concentre around
the mouth, and the lips retract and shew the teeth with
a fierce expression ; this depends partly on the turn ot
the nostril, which accompanies the retraction of the
lips. The mouth should express that bitter anguish
which the Italian poet has rather too distinctly told : —

" Trema '1 cor dentro, e treman fuor le labbia,
Non pud la lingua disnodar parola,
La bocca amara e par che tosco v* habbia."

Again : —

" E per V ossa un tremor freddo gli scorre,
Con cor trafitto, e con pallida faccia,
E con voce tremante, e bocca amara?

There seems to be a natural succession in the passions
of rage, revenge, and remorse : I do not mean morally,
but in regard to our present inquiry concerning the
traits of expression. A slight change in the lineaments
of rage gives the expression of revenge, while the cruel
eye of revenge is tempered by the relaxing energy of
the lower part of the countenance in remorse.

Eage is that excess or vehemence of anger that can
be no longer restrained — sceva animi tempestas. Whether
the object be near or remote, the frame is wrought and
chafed. It is a brutal passion, in which the body acts
with an impetuosity not directed by sense. If we
observe it in a beast, we shall better recognise it in
man. When the keeper strikes the tiger or the wolf
with his pole, there is an instantaneous fire of ex-
pression ; the eye, the teeth are in a moment exposed,
and accompanied with an excitement of the frame
which we cannot see unmoved. If we imagine the

Page 158

RAGE

RAGE.

159

human brute strangling helpless age or infancy, it must
he with such a rage as this. Lord Karnes says, kt A
stock or a st jne by which I am hurt becomes an object
of resentment, and I am violently incited to crush it to
atoms." This is purely as the wolf bites the stick which
is presented to him. In considering those bursts of
passion which lead us to wreak our vengeance upon
inanimate objects, Dr. Eeid supposes we are possessed
with the momentary belief that the object is alive :
* There must," he says, " be some momentary notion or
conception that the object of our resentment is capable
of punishment." I believe the mistake here is in not
having a confirmed notion of the intimate connection
between the emotion in the mind and the exertion of
the bodily frame. The body and limbs suffer an
agitation as the face does, resulting from the passion ;
and if a man, half conscious of the frenzy which
possesses him, and afraid of being betrayed into an act
of cruelty, flings from him the weapon of destruction,
it is with the jerk and impetuosity of an outrageous act ;
whilst his humane sense controls him, it is not capable
of arresting that instinctive agency of the body wrought
upon by the passion ; just as a man, after a long
exercise of patience in some work of delicacy or nicety,
is at last overcome, dashes the instrument from him,
and relieves himself by a burst of impatience and some
angry strides.

In rage the features are unsteady ; the eyeballs are
seen largely ; they roll and are inflamed. The front is
alternately knit and raised iu furrows by the motion of
the eyebrows, the nostrils are inflated to the utmost ;
the lips are swelled, and, being drawn by the muscles,
open the corners of the mouth. The whole visage is
sometimes pale, sometimes turgid, dark, and almost
livid i tha words are delivered strongly through the

160

REMORSE.

fixed teeth ; " the hair is fixed on end like one distracted,
and every joint should seem to curse and ban."*
Tasso thus describes the rage of Argante :

" Tacque ; e '1 Pagano al sofferir poco uso,
Morde le labbra, e di furor si strugge.
Kisponder vuol, ma '1 suono esce confuso,
Siceome strido d' animal, che rugge :
O come apre le nubi ond' egli e chiuso,
Impetuoso il fulmine, e sen fugge ;
Cosi pareva a forza ogni suo detto

Tonando uscir dall' infiammato petto/' — Cant. vi. 38.f

But in representing the passion, it may be much
varied : perhaps the eyes are fixed upon the ground ;
the countenance pale, troubled, and threatening; the
lip trembling and the breath suppressed, or there is a
deep and long inspiration as of inward pain.

In the following sketch I have endeavoured to
represent that expression which succeeds the last
horrid act of revenge ; the storm has subsided, but
the gloom is not yet dissipated. Some compunctious
visitings of nature are in the lips, though the eye
retains its severity. By the posture and fixed attention,
I would indicate that the survey of the now lifeless
body carries back the train of thought with regret for
past transactions.

To represent the prevailing character and physiog-
nomy of a madman, the body should be strong and the
muscles rigid and distinct, the skin bound, the features
sharp, the eye sunk ; the colour of a dark brownish

* " La furia fn- gl' atti stolti e fuor di se ; si comme di quelli che
si avvolgono ne i moti ofFensivi, senza riguardo alcuno, rendendosi
veliementi in tutti gl' affetti, con bocca aperta et storta, che par che
stridano, ringhino, urlino et si lamentino, stracciandosi le membra
et i panni et facendo altre smanie." — Lommazzo, lib. ii. p. 135.

f If the painter has any imagination and power of delineation,
the reading of the combat of Tancred and Argante must inspire
him with a grand conception of the sublime ferocity of the human
figure in action.

Page 160

REMORSE

MADKESS

MADNESS.

161

yellow, tinctured with sallowness, without one spot of
enlivening carnation ; the hair sooty black, stiff and
bushy. Or, perhaps, he might be represented as of a
pale sickly yellow, with wiry hair.

" His burning even, whom bloody strakes did stain,
Stared full ^ ide, and threw forth sparks of fire ;
And more for rank despight than for great pain,
Shak'd his long locks, colour'd like copper wire,

And bit his tawny beard to show his raging ire." *

I do not mean here to trace the progress of the
diseases of the mind, but merely to throw out some
hints respecting the external character of the outrageous
maniac.

You see him lying in his cell regardless of everything,
with a death-like settled gloom upon his countenance.
When I say it is a death-like gloom, I mean a heaviness
of the features without knitting of the brows or action
of the muscles. If you watch him in his paroxysm you
may see the blood working to his head ; his face
acquires a darker red; he becomes restless ; then rising
from his couch he paces his cell and tugs his chains ;
now his inflamed eye is fixed upon you, and his features
lighten up into wildness and ferocity.

The error into which a painter ma}7 naturally fall is
to represent this expression by the swelling features of
passion and the frowning eyebrow ; but this would only
give the idea of passion, not of madness. Or he mistakes
melancholia for madness. The theory upon which we
are to proceed in attempting to convey this peculiar
look of ferocity amidst the utter wreck of the intellect,
I conceive to be, that the expression of mental energy
should be avoided, and consequently the action of all
those muscles which indicate sentiment. I believe this
to be true to nature, because I have observed (contrary
to my expectation) that there was not that energy,

* Fairy Queen, Book ii. cant. 4, s. 15.

M

162

MADNESS.

that kr.itting of the brows, that indignant brooding
and thoughtfulness in the face of madmen which is
generally imagined to characterise their expression, and
which is so often given to them in painting. There is
a vacancy in their laugh, and a want of meaning in
their ferociousness.

To learn the character of the countenance, when
devoid of human expression, and reduced to the state
of brutality, we must have recourse to the lower ani-
mals, and study their looks of timidity, of watchfulness,
of excitement, and of ferocity. If these expressions
are transferred to the human face, I should conceive
that they will irresistibly convey the idea of madness,
vacancy of mind, and mere animal passion.

But these discussions are only for the study of the
painter. The subject should be full in his mind,
without its being for a moment imagined that such
painful or humiliating details are suited to the canvas.
If madness is to be represented, it is with a moral aim,
to show the consequences of vice and the indulgence ol
passion.

There is a link of connection between all liberal pro-
fessions. The painter may borrow from the physician.
He will require something more than his fancy can
supply, if he has to represent a priestess or a sybil.
It must be the creation of a mind, learned as well as
inventive. He may readily conceive a female form full
of energy, her imagination at the moment exalted and
pregnant, so that things long past are painted m
colours as if they stood before her, and her expression
becomes bold and poetical. But he will have a more
true and precise idea of what is to be depicted, if he
reads the history of that melancholia which undoubtedly,
in early times, has given the idea of one possessed with
a spirit. A young woman is seen constitutionally
pale and languid; and from this inanimate state, no

MADNESS.

163

show of affection or entreaty will draw her into con-
versation with her family. But how changed is her
condition, when instead of the lethargy and fixed coun-
tenance, the circulation is suddenly restored, the blood
mounts to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkle, while both
in mind and body she manifests an unwonted energy,
and her whole frame is animated. During the con-
tinuance of the paroxysm, she delivers herself with a
force of thought and language, and in a tone so greatly
altered, that even her parents say, " She is not our
child, she is not our daughter, a spirit has entered into
her." This is in accordance with the prevailing super-
stition of antiquity ; for how natural to suppose, when
this girl again falls into a state of torpor, and sits like
a marble statue, pale, exhausted, taciturn, that the
spirit has left her. The transition is easy ; the priests
take her under their care, watch her ravings and give
them meaning, until she sinks again into a death-like
stupor or indifference.

Successive attacks of this kind impress the counte-
nance indelibly. The painter has to represent features
powerful, but consistent with the maturity and per-
fection of feminine beauty. He will show his genius
by portraying, not only a fine female form with the
grandeur of the antique, but a face of peculiar cha-
racter ; embodying a state of disease often witnessed
by the physician, with associations derived from history.
If on the dead and uniform paleness of the face he
bestows that deep tone of interest which belongs to
features inactive, but not incapable of feeling : if he
can show something of the imprint of long suffering
isolated from human sympathy, throw around her the
appropriate mantle, and let the fine hair fall on her
shoulders, the picture will require no golden letters to
announce her character, as in the old paintings of the
Sybil or the Pythoness.

m a

164

OF DEATH. AS REPRESENTED IN THE PAINTINGS OF THE

OLD MASTERS.

Before proceeding, I must repeat, that the convulsions
of the body which sometimes accompany the act of
dying, are not the effect of pain, but succeed to insensi-
bility. There may remain, after death, for a time, the
expression of suffering; but this soon subsides, and the
features become placid and composed. Therefore it is
that the sorrowing friends are withdrawn, until Death
has had the victory, when the features assume the
tranquillity of sleep.

The observation of Leonardo da Vinci, that contrast
is essential in painting, has a fine example in the picture
of the " Martyrdom of St. Agnes." * Near the martyr
lie two soldiers struck down by a miracle : one of these
is in the agony, but not yet dead ; the muscles of his
neck are convulsed, the mouth extended, and the lips
drawn back from the teeth, the brow is furrowed, the
eyes almost closed, and the pupils not visible : the
other soldier is tumbled over him ; his features are
fixed in death : with both of these is contrasted the
resignation of the martyr.

When in Koine, I heard much of the fine statue of St.
Cecilia Decollata ; f I, therefore, went to the Church of
St. Cecilia in Trastevere. Looking for a statue, my
surprise was great when it was pointed out where the
figure lay, in a crypt or low marble arch, under the
great altar. $ A gold case, containing the heart of the

* In the Accadomia delle Belle Arte, Bologna,
t Stefano Mademo Sculptor. 1599.

X Cardinal Banonius has gWen us an exact description of the
appearance of the body, buried by Pope Paschal (in the 9th century)
when exhumed by order of Cardinal Spondati in 1599. " She
was lying not in the manner of one dead and buried, that is.

DEATH.

165

saint, hangs from the centre of the arcn. St. Cecilia
was an early convert to Christianity, and having drawn
her brother, and many others to the faith, she suffered
martyrdom, and was found in the precise position in
which this marble represents her. The body lies on
its side, the limbs a little drawn up ; the hands are
delicate and fine, they are not locked, but crossed at
the wrists ; the arms are stretched out The drapery
is beautifully modelled, and modestly covers the limbs.
The head is enveloped in linen, but the general form is
seen, and the artist has contrived to convey by its
position, though not offensively, that it is separated
from the body. A gold circlet is around the neck to
conceal the place of decollation. It is the statue of a
lady, perfect in form, and affecting, from the resemblance
to reality in the drapery of white marble, and the un-
expected appearance of the statue altogether. It lies,
as no living body could lie ; and yet correctly, as the
dead, when left to expire, — I mean in the gravitation
of the limbs.*

The position of the head will distinguish the dead
from the living figure. There is so much difference

on her back, but on her right side, as one asleep : and in a very
modest attitude ; covered with a simple stuff of taffeta, having her
head bound with cloth, and at her feet the remains of the cloth of
gold and silk which Pope Paschal had found in her tomb." The
statue of Mademo agrees exactly with this description. — Mrs.
Jameson, Sacred and Legendary Art.

* Statua di St. Cecilia. — " Questa graziosa statua giacente, rap-
presenta un corpo morto come se allora fosse caduto mollemente sul
terreno, colle estremita ben disposte e con tutta la decenza nelF
assetto dei panneggiamenti, tenendo la testa rivolta all' ingiu
e avilluppata in una benda, senza che inopportunamente si scorga
V irrigidire dei corpi freddi per morte. Le pieghe vi sono facile, e
tutta la grazia spira dalla persona, che si vede essere giovine e
gentile, quantunque asconda la faccia ; le forme generali, e le belle
estremita che se mostrano, danno a vedere con quanta grazia e con
quanta scelta sia stata imitata la natura in quel posare si dolee-
mente."

DEATH.

1(37

between fainting and death ; that is to say, it is so
possible to mark the difference, that I confess I have
been disappointed by the failure of some of the finest
painters ; for example, in the representation of the
Madonna fainting at the foot of the cross, which is a
very frequent subject, the colouring is commonly that
of death.*

There is sometimes in death a fearful agony in the
eye ; but we have said, that it is consolatory to know
that this does not Indicate suffering, but increasing
insensibility. The pupils are turned upwards and in-
wards. This is especially observed in those who are
expiring from loss of blood. It is the strabismus patheti-
cus orantium of Boerhaave. Sauvages observes on this
rolling up of the eyeball, in dying children, — " Vulgo
aiunt hos tenellos suam patriam respicere." 4 The
vulgar say, that these little ones are looking to their
native home.'f

We cannot fail to observe how artfully the poets
accommodate their descriptions of death to that kind of
interest which they have laboured to excite. The tyrant
falls convulsed and distorted in agony ; the hero, in

* Gesu Cristo Morto. — " He lies, the head and shoulders resting
on the knees of his mother, who has fainted. The posture and
abandonment of the Magdalen is the finest representation possible ;
her hair, as usual, loose. She is kneeling at the feet of our Saviour,
her hands convulsively entwined. The dead body is beautifully
drawn ; the anatomy perfect, not exaggerated. But the mother is
dead — gone to decay — not in faint, but in death : such is the effect
of the colouring." — Note from Journal. Parma.

f To express approaching dissolution, the French peasant uses a
parase derived from this upturning of the eye-bull. She arrived—
" au moment ou ea mere tourne l'ceil."

In the sudden death of the necromancer by the action of Astolfo's
iword on his fated hair : —

" Si fece il viso allor pallido e brutto
Travolse gli occhi, e dimostro a 1' occaso
Per manifesti segni esser condutto."

Ariosto, Ci 15, st. 65.

168

DEATH.

whose fate we have been made to sympathise, expires
without the horrors of death ; his fall is described
with all the images of gentle sinking, where mortal
languor is succeeded by insensibility, unaccompanied by
pari gs and struggles.

In the episode of Nisus and Euryalus, Virgil gives to
the death of Sulmo all the horror of violent death ; the
breath is convulsively drawn, arid the sides palpitate.

" Hasta volans noctis diverberat umbras,
Et venit aversi in tergum Suhnonis, iMqtie
Frangitur, ac fisso transit prseeordia ligno.
Volvitur ille vomens calidum de pectore fiumen
Frigidus, et longis singultibus ilia pulsat." —

JEneid, ix. 411.

But in the death of Euryalus the poet recurs to all
the images of languid and gentle decline ; —

" Volvitur Euryalus letho, pulchrosque per artus
It cruor, inque humeros cervix collapsa recumbit :
Purpureus veluti quum flos, succisus aratro,
Languescit moriens ; lassove papavera collo
Demisere caput, pluvia quum forte gravantur." *

JEneid, ix. 433.

Tasso presents us with some very fine contrasts ci

* In tbe death of Dardinel, the simile of Virgil is beautifully
imitated by Ariosto : —

" Come purpureo fior languendo muore
Che '1 vomere al passar tagliato lassa ;
O come carco di soverchio umore
II papaver no 1' horto, il capo abbassa ;
Cosi giu de la faccia ogni colore
Cadendo, Dardinel di vita passa," &c.

Cant, xviii. 153.

As a further contrast, we might take the death of the Soldan's
page, Ger. Lib. ix. 86. So of Nisus throwing himself upon tbe body
of his friend, Mneid, ix. 444. Contrast also the death of Eunseus,
lb. xi. 668, with that of Camilla, in the same book.

Sallust thus describes finding tha body of Catiline :— " Longe a
suis inter hostium cadavera, paululum etiam spirans, ferociamque
animi quam habuerit vivus, in voltu retinens."

DEATH.

169

the same kind ; in the death of Argante, for example,
there is a picture of ferocious impetuosity and savage
strength : —

" Infuriossi allor Tancredi et disse;
Cosi abusi, fellon, la pieta mia ?
Poi la spada gli fisse et gli refisse
ISJella visera, ove accerto la via.
Moriva Argante, e tal moria qual visse :
Minacciava morendo, e non languia ;
Superbi, formidabili, e feroci
Gli ultimi moti fur, V ultime voci."

Tasso, Ger. Lib. cant. xix. 26.

Sometimes, indeed, death may be represented unac-
companied by the horror with which it is commonly
associated. A young creature is seen in death, as if
asleep, with the beauty of countenance unobscured by
convulsion; the form remains, but the animation is
gone, and the colours of life have given place to the pale
tints of death.

" D' un bel pallore ha il bianco volto asperso,
Come a' gigli sarian miste viole.

In questa forma

Passa la bella donna, e par che dorma."

Tasso, Ger. Lib. cant. xii. 69

Again the same poet : —

" E quasi un ciel notturno, anco sereno
Senza splendor la faccia scolorata."

Or Petrarch : —

" Non come fiamma che per forza e spenta,
Ma che per se medesma si consume,
Se n' ando in pace V anima contenta :
A guisa di un soave e chiaro lume,
Cui nutrimento a poco a poco manca,
Tenendo al fin suo usato costume ;
Pallida no, ma piu che neve bianca,
Che senza vento in un bel colle fiocchi,
Parea posar come persona stanca.

170 DEATH.

Quasi un dolce dormir ne' suoi begli occhi,
Essendo il spirto gia' da lei diviso,
Era quel cbe morir chiaman gli sciocchi.

Morte bella parea nel suo bel viso."

TrUmfo della Morte,

A man who has died in battle lies blanched and
very pale ; he has bled to death ; but one strangled,
smitten, or crusbed by some deadly contusion, has the
blood settled in his face. The following picture is truly
horrible from its truth and accuracy : —

" But, see, his face is black, and full of blood ;
His eyeballs further out than when he lived,
Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ;
His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling 5
His hands abroad displayed as one that grasp'd
And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued.
Look on the sheets ; his hair, you see, is sticking ;
His well-proportion' d beard made rough and rugged,
Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.
It cannot be but he was murder'd here ;
The least of all these signs were probable."

King Henry VI. Part II.

The laws of inquest in England require such things
to be witnessed in all their appalling circumstances,
since the body lies where it falls, and no weapon or even
disorder of dress is removed.

Are such scenes to be painted? — Certainly not. The
impression may be conveyed to the spectator consis-
tently with good taste, and in a manner less obtrusive,
so as to awaken the sensations which should attend
them, without the detail of the actual scene. It may
be allowed in words, as Shakspeare has represented the
body of the good Duke Humphrey ; but in painting,
the representation becomes too palpable to admit the
whole features of horror.

( 171 )

ESSAY VI1L

OF EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY THE EMOTIONS

MODIFIED BY CONTROLLING EXPRESSION.

In the preceding essays, it has been shewn that the
oowerful passions influence the same class of nerves and
muscles which are affected in highly excited or anxious
breathing ; and it was inferred, that the apparatus of
respiration is the instrument by which the emotions
are manifested In fear or in grief, the movements of
the nostrils, the uncontrollable tremor of the lips,
the convulsions of the neck and chest, and the audible
sobbing, prove that the influence of the mind extends
over the organs of respiration ; so that the difference is
slight between the action of the frame in a paroxysm
of the passions and in the agony of a drowning
man.

Having traced the connection between the excitement
of the chest or trunk of the body and expression in the
face, we may for a moment turn our attention to the
consent between the breathing or expression of the body
generally, and the position of the limbs. Let us take
the instances by which we before illustrated the uni-
versal consent of the animal frame. When the tiger or
wolf is struck by the keeper, and suddenly roused to
ferocity and activity, the character is seen not only in
the glare of the eyes, the retraction of the lips, and the

172 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY.

harsh sound of the breath as it is forcibly drawn
through the confined throat, but every muscle is in
tension and the lips in an attitude of strained exertion,
prepared to spring. In this condition of high animal
excitement, observe the manner in which the chest is
kept distended and raised ; the inspiration is quick, the
expiration slow; and, as the keeper strikes the jaw,
there is at the same instant a start into exertion, and
the breath rapidly drawn in. The cause of this ex-
pansion of the chest is readily understood, when we
recollect that the muscles by which the limbs are exerted
have two extremities : one fixed, which is called the
origin ; the other moveable, which is called the insertion.
The muscles of the arms, in man, and of the forelegs, in
brutes, have their origins on the chest. To give power
to the further extremities or insertions of these muscles
into the limbs, the chest must be fixed : and, to give
them their fullest power, it must be raised and expanded,
as well as fixed. Hence that most terrible silence in
human conflict, when the outcry of terror or pain is
stifled in exertion ; for, during the struggle with the
arms, the chest must be expanded or in the act of rising,
and, therefore, the voice, which consists in the expul-
sion of the breath by the falling or compression of the
chest, is suppressed, and the muscles which perform the
office of raising and distending the chest, act in aid of
the muscles of the arms. The moment of alarm is also
that of flight or defence; the sudden and startled
exertion of the hands and arms is attended with a quick
inspiration and spasm of the mouth and throat, and the
first sound of fear is in drawing, not in expelling the
breath ; for at that instant to depress and contract the
chest would be to relax the muscles of the arms and
enfeeble their exertion. Or, to put the example in
another form, suppose two men wrestling in the dark
would not their voices convey to us the violence of their

EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 173

efforts? The short exclamation choked in the act of
exertion, the feeble and stifled sounds of their breathing,
would let us know that they turned, and twisted, and
were in mortal strife. To an apt observer, two dogs
fighting might illustrate the subject. Su<h com-
binations of the muscular actions are not left to
the direction of our will, but are provided for in the
original constitution of the animal body : they are
instinctive motions. Yet, the principles of criticism
in these matters have been laid down with surprising
confidence by persons who had no knowledge of ana-
tomy, and whose curiosity had never been raised, to
inquire into the phenomena of their own emotions,
or of those they must have witnessed in others. 1
shall transcribe here a passage from an elegant and
ingenious critic, on which I shall freely make some
remarks.

" In like manner it is not with the agonies of a man,
writhing in the pangs of death, that we sympathise, on
beholding the celebrated group of Laocoon and his sons ;
for snch sympathies can only be painful and disgusting :
but it is with the energy and fortitude of mind which
those agonies call into action and display. For though
every feature and every muscle is convulsed" and every
nerve contracted, yet the breast is expanded and the
throat compressed, to show that he suffers in silence.
I therefore still maintain, in spite of the blind and
indiscriminate admiration, which pedantry always
shews for everything which bears the stamp of high
authority, that Virgil has debased the character, and
robbed it of all its sublimity and grandeur of expression
by making Laocoon roar like a hull ; and I think that ]
may safely affirm, that if any writer of tragedy were to
make any one personage of his drama to roar out in the
same manner, on being mortally wounded, the whole
audience would burst into laughter, how pathetic

174 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY.

soever the incidents might be that accompanied it.
Homer has been so sensible of this, that of the vast
number and variety of deaths, which he has described,
he has never made a single Greek cry out on receiving
a mortal wound."*

The criticism here is just, so far as the artist is
praised and the poet blamed ; but the critic has mis-
taken the ground of the praise and of the blame. It
appears strange that any one should philosophise on
such points and yet be ignorant of the most common
things in the structure of his own frame, and of
the facts most essential to just criticism in works of
art. What ideas can be conveyed, for example, by
tk the convulsion of a feature," and the " contraction
of a nerve " ?

The writer has had the impression, which all who
look on the statue must have, that Laocoon sutlers in
silence, that there is no outcry. But the aim of the
artist is mistaken. He did not mean to express " energy
and fortitude of mind," or, by " expanding the breast
and compressing the throat, to shew that he suffers
in silence." His design was to represent corporeal
exertion, the attitude and struggles of the body and of
the arms. The throat is inflated, the chest straining,
to give power to the muscles of the arms, while the
slightly parted lips show that no breath escapes ; or, at
most a low hollow groan.f He could not roar like a

* Mr. Payne Knight on Taste, p. 333.

f " IUe simul omnibus tendit divellere nodos,
Perfusus sanie vittas atr que veneno:
Clamores simul horrendos ad sidera tollit :
Qualis niugitus, fugit quum saucius aram
Taurus, et mcertam excussit cervice securim.'*

Mneid, Lib. ii. 1. 220.

" Virgilio ci rappresente Laocoonte in smanie e in muggite
come un toro ferito a morte; ma Agesendro seppe exprimere tutto
il dolore, senza cedere la bellezza." — Azara, p. 53. This is juct
the criticism of Mr. Payne Knight.

EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 175

bull — he had not the power to push his breath out in
the very moment of the great exertion of his arms to
untwist the serpent which is coiled around him. It is
a mistake to suppose that the suppressed voice, and
the consent of the features with the exertion of the
frame, proceed from an effort of the mind to sustain
his pain in dignified silence ; for this condition of
the arms, chest, and face, are necessary parts of one
action.

The instant that the chest is depressed to vociferate
or bellow, the muscles arising from the ribs and inserted
into the arm-bones must be relaxed, and the exertion
of the arms becomes feeble. Again, in speaking or
exclaiming, a consent runs through all the respiratory
muscles ; those of the mouth and throat combine with
those which move the chest. Had the sculptor re-
presented Laocoon as if the sound flowed from his open
mouth, there would have been a strange inconsistency
with the elevated condition of his breast. Neither is it
correct to .suppose it possible that a man struck down
with a mortal wound, and rolling in the dust, like
Homer's ill-fated heroes, can roar out like a bull. A
mortal wound has an immediate influence on these vital
parts and respiratory organs, and the attempt to cry
alond would end in a feeble wail or groan. There is
no danger that the tragedian who follows nature should
offend the taste of an audience by actual outcry. But
these critics think it necessary to refine and go beyond
Nature, whereas the rule is to learn her ways, and to be
cautious of adding the slightest trait of expression, or
what we conceive to be such, to the simple, and because
simple, the grand character of natural action ; instead
of making the appeal more strongly to the senses, it is
sure to weaken it.

In the statue of David with his sling, there is an
attempt at expression which offends good taste, becauso

176 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY.

it is not true to nature. The artist has meant by the
biting of the lip to convey the idea of resolution and
energy. But that is an action intended to restrain
expression, to suppress an angry emotion which is rising
in the breast ; and if it be permitted, even in caricature,
it must be as a sign of some trifling inconvenience,
never of heroism. It is not suitable to the vigorous
tone which should pervade the whole frame. That
vigour cannot be otherwise represented, than by the
excitement of the breast, lips, and nostrils, while the
posture and the eyes give it a direction and meaning.
This is all destroyed by an expression so weak and
inconsistent as biting the lip ; it is vulgar, not
because it is common, but because it is a trick, and
not true to nature.

The " Dying Gladiator " is one of those masterpieces
of antiquity which exhibits a knowledge of anatomy
and of man's nature. He is not resting; he is not
falling ; but in the position of one wounded in the chest
tnd seeking relief in that anxious and oppressed breath-
ing which attends a mortal wound with loss of blood.
He seeks support to his arms, not to rest them or to
sustain the body, but to fix them, that their action may
be transferred to the chest, and thus assist the labouring
respiration. The nature of his sufferings leads to this
attitude. In a man expiring from loss of blood, as the
vital stream flows, the heart and lungs have the same
painful feeling of want, which is produced by obstruc-
tion to the breathing. As the blood is draining from
him, he pants, and looks wild, and the chest heaves
convulsively. And so the ancient artist has placed
this statue in the posture of one who suffers the
extremity of difficult respiration. The fixed condition
of the shoulders, as he sustains his sinking body, shews
that the powerful muscles, common to the ribs and
arms, have their action concentrated to ths struggling

asthma rest his hands or his elbows upon a table,
\tooping forwards, that the shoulders may become

N

178 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY.

fixed points ; the muscles of the arm and shoulder
then act as muscles of respiration, and aid in the
motion of the chest, during the heaving and anxiety
which belong to the disease.

When a man is mortally wounded, and still more
if he be bleeding to death as the gladiator, he presents
the appearance of suffocation ; for the want is felt in
the breast, and relief is sought in the heaving of the
chest. If he have at that moment the sympathy and
aid of a friend, he will cling to him, half raising
himself and twisting his chest with the utmost exertion ;
and while every muscle of the trunk stands out abrupt
and prominent, those of the neck and throat, and
nostrils and mouth, will partake the excitement. In this
condition he will remain fixed, and then fall exhausted
with the exertion ; it is in the moment of the chest
sinking, that the voice of suffering may be heard. If
he have fallen on the turf, it is not from pain, but from
that indescribable agony of want and instinctive
struggling, that the grass around the lifeless body is
lodged and torn.

So too with the actor. In order to convey to the
spectator the idea of human nature agitated by passion or
suffering, he must study how the parts of the frame are
united and co-operate in expression. Of the success of
such an effort we had lately an example on our own stage.
It was in witnessing the struggles of a man who had
received the mortal thrust, and the representation was
hoiribly correct. The actor having rubbed the paint
from his face, presented a hollow cheek, with the
countenance haggard and pale ; but it was the
heaving of the shoulders attending his deep and
painful inspiration, — his difficult utterance, — the
gurgling of his voice, as if the blood impeded the
breath, which made altogether a most powerfully
drawn representation of violent death. Even those

EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 179

who knew nothing of the cause of their being moved
felt that it was correct.

But let us take a less appalling instance of the
consent of the frame with the functions of the heart
and lungs. It is this connexion between the muscles of
the chest and arms which makes a little man oppressed
by obesity speak with abrupt gesticulation. His
emphatic words are forced out in barking tones
accompanied by jerks and twists of the arms, the
reverse of grace ; while a tall and ungainly person
exhibits an awkwardness of an opposite kind, in a
disjointed swing of his arms during the efforts of his
elocution.

Are we not now authorised to say, that expression is to
passion what language is to thought : that as without
words to represent ideas, the reasoning faculties of man
could not be fully exercised, so there could be no
violence or excess of passion merely in the mind, and
independent of the action of the body ? As our thoughts
are embodied and the reasoning powers developed by
the instrument of speech, the passions or emotions have
also a corresponding organ to give them a determined
character and force. The bodily frame, though second-
ary and inferior, comes in aid of the mind ; and the
faculties owe their development as much to the operation
of the instruments of expression as to the impressions
of the outward senses.

It is also curious that expression appears to precede
the intellectual operations. The smile that dimples an
infant's cheek, which in after-years corresponds with
pleasurable and complex emotions, cannot have its
origin from such ideas. This expression is not first
seen when the infant is awake, but oftener while asleep ;
and this first beam of pleasure to a mother's eye is met
with the cold observation of the wise old women, that

n 2

180 EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY.

it is caused by some internal convulsion. They con-
clude that the child's intellects are not yet matured to
correspond with the expression, and attribute the effect
to some internal irritation. The expression is in fact
the spontaneous operation and classification of the
muscles, which await the development of the faculties
to accompany them closely when they do arise, and
in some measure to control them during life. It
may be too much to affirm, that without the co-
operation of these organs of the frame the mind would
remain a blank ; but surely the mind must owe
something to its connexion with an operation of the
features which precedes its own conscious activity,
and which is unerring in its exercise from the very
commencement.

The expression of pain in an infant is extraordinary
in force and caricature ; the expression of laughter is
pure in the highest possible degree, as indicating
unalloyed pleasure, and it will relax by sympathy even
the stubborn features of a stranger. Here the
rudiments of expression ought to be studied, for in
after-life they cease to have the pure and simple source
from which they spring in infancy ; the feelings are
composed and restrained, the mind is in a state of more
compound feeling, and the genuine characteristics of
passion are to be seen only in unpremeditated bursts
of great vehemence.

How much influence the instrument of expression
has in first rousing the mind into that state of activity
which we call passion or emotion, we may learn from
the power of the body to control these affections. " 1
have often observed," says Burke, " that on mimicking
the looks and gestures of angry, or placid, or frightened,
or daring men, I have involuntarily found my mind
turned to that passion whose appearance I endeavoured
to imitate."

EXPRESSION IN REFERENCE TO THE BODY. 1S1

Whether it be possible to mould the body, and thus
PC steal into another's thoughts, I know not ; but it is of
more consequence to recollect that we may in this way
ascertain our own. As the actions and expressions of
the body betray the emotions of the heart, we may be
startled and forewarned, as it were, by the reflection of
ourselves, and at the same time learn to control our
passions by restraining their expression.

As we hold our breath and throw ourselves into aa
opposite action to restrain the ludicrous idea which
would cause us to break out in rude laughter, so may
we moderate other rising impulses, by checking the
expression of them ; and by composing the body, we
put a rein upon our very thoughts. The powers of
language are so great, and minister in so superior a
manner to reason and the higher faculties of the mind,
that the language of expression, which attends the
development of these powers, is in a manner superseded ;
good taste and good manners retain it in habitual sub-
ordination. We esteem and honour that man most who
subdues the passions which directly refer to himself,
and cultivates those which have their source in bene-
volence— who resists his own gratification, and enters
warmly by sympathy into what others feel — who
despises direct pleasures, and cultivates those enjoyments
in which he participates with others. " Whatever is
morally just is beautiful in art;" the expression of pain,
proceeding from the mere suffering of the body, is
repulsive in representation, while the heroic pangs
which the artist may raise to the highest degree of
expression, in compassion or sympathy with another's
sufferings, cannot be too powerfully portrayed, if they
be consistent with nature and truth.

In studying expression the artist should attempt all,
even that which is disagreeable, so that in higher com-
position he may avoid deformity and every debasing

182 expression in reference to the body.

expression, and this not by chance, but by knowing them
and avoiding them ; by this means — and it was followed
by the ancients — his power of representation will be
improved, and what is dignified and beautiful in form
and expression more certainly attained.

< 183 )

ESSAY IX.

Oy THE STUDY OF ANATOMY AS NECESSARY TO DESIGN, OP
THE IDEAL, IN THE REPRESENTATION OF THE BODY. OF
THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONA-
ROTTI.

Were I to attempt a definition of the ideal in the repre-
sentation of the body, or of the head and face, I should
adopt, as the most harmless to the sculptor or painter,
that which has been given by Cicognara. " The ideal
in art," says he, 4 4 is nothing more than the imitation of
an object as it ought to be in perfect nature, divested of
the errors or distortions which secondary causes produce."
He takes for granted that man, like every thing else,
has degenerated from the original design of nature, and
" that we ought to endeavour to present his form as
when he rose a newly-created being, before misery and
famine, cold or excess of heat, had influence upon his
frame. To accomplish this, the artist has to contemplate
those acknowledged beauties in the Venus, in the youthful
Apollo, in the vigorous Athletse, and in the Hercules.
From such sources he m ist select the perfect forms,
which are now to be found no longer in nature, and
recompose them into a beautiful whole."

This is at least intelligible, and, to a certain degree
practicable. It divests the subject of that mystery
which those throw over it who would persuade the artist
that to represent perfection of form, he must avoid what
is human, and retain what is divine.

184

OF DESIGN.

But, when this is attained, and the drawing of the
figure is unobjectionable, a higher object still is to be
found, in a deeper meditation on human nature. Senti-
ment and expression may be impressed on the figure,
as on the face ; but they must be made appropriate to
their situation. Some of the most beautiful remains of
Grecian art, when deposited in churches, appear out of
place ; while, in the same situation, the statues of Michael
Angelo seem perfectly congenial. The noble forms and
grave attitudes of his statues, in the sombre light of the
aisles, lead memory back to all that is great in times
gone by. Those magnificent designs have the effect
of a passage in the historian or the poet, when the
reader closes the book to indulge in the associations
of ideas which have been awakened. But, were they
placed in a gallery or saloon, they might with more
propriety be subjected to the flippant criticisms which
they have met with.

Individuals, as well as nations, have different manners
of representing the same objects, — the human figure,
for example. The Egyptians, the Greeks, the people
of Hindostan, or of Europe, will raise a monument
with more marked peculiarities than are seen even in
the designs of Michael Angelo, Correggio, and Kaphael ;
care, therefore, should be taken to give full scope to dif-
ferent dispositions, capacities, or tastes. I cannot help
saying, that the method of study in the academies tends
to cramp the efforts of genius. In the Academy of
Bologna I found the students copying from the plaster-
casts, as our youths do at home ; and if some means be
not afforded to encourage individual genius, tameness
and mediocrity must be the result. I think the remedy
is to be found in the study of anatomy.

There has been much unnecessary ingenuity exercised
on the question whether the ancients studied anatomy.
Undoubtedly they did not study it in our fashion ; yet

OF1 DESIGN.

185

that they possessed all the knowledge of it which art
requires, cannot be denied. The finer specimens of
ancient statuary evince a more perfect acquaintance
with anatomy, as far as it is shewn in the propor-
tions, general forms, and action of the body, than
the productions of those modern sculptors and painters
who have pursued this art with the greatest zeal and
success, — even than Michael Angelo himself. The
only question therefore is, how they acquired this
knowledge.

Although in Greece the dead were burned, and no
artists dissected the human body, yet they certainly had
the means of learning the nature of a bone, muscle, and
tendon. No more was necessary; the rest was before
them. Fine as their athletae were in youth, they were
subject to the decay of age. Now, in comparing the
frame of a man advanced in years, especially if in
early life he had been remarkable for "thews and
sinews," with the young and active, everything essential
to the painter and the sculptor may be observed. If the
Greeks had before them the most admired forms of youth
and manhood, they had also the " time honoured wrest-
ler," who in old age exhibited, almost as in the dead
anatomy, every muscle, origin and insertion, every ten-
don, and every vein. I know how far this manner of
demonstrating the anatomy may be carried. Having
in my lectures on surgery taken the living man, the
academy model, to illustrate the practice in fractures
and dislocations, I was accustomed to introduce a
powerful muscular fellow to my class, with this ap-
peal : — " In the exercise of your profession you have to
judge of the displacement of the limbs, and the joints
disfigured by dislocation, fractures, or tumour ; but not
one of you, perhaps, has ever looked on the natural
body itself." In giving these lessons, I became aware
how much of the structure of the muscles and

186

OF THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF

. articulations might be demonstrated without actual

dissection

In the heat of the southern countries of Europe, the
workmen, the Galeotti, or men condemned to the public
works, the young people and children, are all accustomed
to a state of nudity ; the naked form becomes, therefore,
familiar to the eye.

In the same day 1 made careful examinations of the
anatomical studies of Michael Angelo, in the collection
of the Grand Duke of Florence, and compared them
with his noble works in the tombs of the Medici. I
observed that he had avoided the error of artists of less
genius, who, in shewing their learning, deviate from
living nature. I recognised the utmost accuracy of
anatomy in the great artist's studies ; in his pen-and-
ink sketches of the knee, for example, every point of
bone, muscle, tendon, and ligament was marked, and
perhaps a little exaggerated. But on surveying the
limbs of those fine statues, this peculiarity was not
visible ; there were none of the details of the anatomy,
but only the effects of muscular action, as seen in life,
not the muscles. As, perhaps, this is the most im-
portant lesson which cm be given to the artist, I
shall venture to transcribe the notes I made at the
time.

" The statue of Lorenzo di Medici, Duca d'Urbino,
by Michael Angelo, is in the Capella di Principi, of
the church of St. Lorenzo. Under the statue are two
figures, one of Twilight, the other of Daybreak. I
observed in the male figure, which is of very grand
proportions, the clavicle or collar-bone, the head of the
humerus, the deltoid and pectoral muscles developed
beyond nature, yet singularly true in the anatomy
Such a shoulder was never seen in man, yet so finely is
it imagined, that no one part is unduly exaggerated ; but
all is magnified with so perfect a knowledge, that it is

THE ANCIENT ARTISTS.

187

just as a whole, the bone and the muscle corresponding
in their proportions. In the same chapel are the statues
of Giuliano di Medici, Duke of Nemours, and brother
of Leo X., with the recumbent figures of Day and Night.
It is in these finely-conceived figures that we have the
proof of Michael Angelo's genius. They may not have
the perfect purity and truth that we see in the antique ;
but there is a magnificence, which belongs to him alone.
Here we see the effect of muscular action, without
affected display of anatomical knowledge. The back
is marvellously fine. The position of the scapula, for
example, makes its lower angle throw up the edge of
the latissimus dorsi, for the scapula is forced back upon
the spine, in consequence of the position of the arm.
Michael Angelo must have carefully studied the ana-
tomy in reference to the changes produced in the living
body by the action of its members : the shifting of the
scapula, with the consequent rising of the mass of
muscles, some in action, some merely pushed into masses,
are very finely shewn." *

Having just come from observing his sketches of the
anatomy of the knee-joint, I was curious in my observa-
tion of the manner in which he made his knowledge
available in the joints of these fine statues ; and they
gave rise to the following remarks.

"If an artist, with a knowledge of the structure,
look upon the knee in a bent position, he will recognise
the different bones and ligaments. But if he look upon
it in an extended position of the limb, or during exer-
tion, he will not distinguish the same parts. The
contour, the swelling of the integument, and the fulness
around the joint, are not produced by the forms of the
bones, but by the rising up of the parts displaced by

* I might make similar remarks on the statue by John of
Bologna — Januarius sitting, shivering under a shower, in a
fountain .n ihe Villa-Petraia, near Florence.

188

ON THE GENIUS AND STUDIES OF

the new position of the bones. The fatty cushions
which are within and external to the knee-joint, and
which serve the purpose of friction -wheels in the play
of the bones upon each other, no longer occupy the
same relative places ; they are protruded from the
depth of the cavity to the surface. How well Michael
Angelo knew this these statues of Day and Night
evince.

" In these statues, great feeling of art and genius
of the highest order have been exhibited; anatomical
science, ideal beauty, or rather grandeur, combined.
It is often said that Michael Angelo studied the Belvi-
ere Torso, and that he kept it continually in his eye.
That fine specimen of ancient art may have been the
authority for his grand development of the human
muscles ; but it did not convey to him the effect which
he produced by the throwing out of those magnificent
and giant limbs. Here we see the vigour of this
sculptor's stroke and the firmness of his touch, as well
as his sublime conception of the human figure. We
can imagine that he wrought by no measure or me-
chanical contrivance ; that he hewed out the marble as
another would cast together his mass of clay in a first
sketch. Many of his finest works are left unfinished ;
it appears that he found the block of marble in some
instances too small, and left the design incomplete.*

* There is one unfinished production of Michael Angelo which
discloses his manner of working ; a statue of St. Matthew, begun
on a block of marble, so small, that it appears to have restrained
him. The figure is distorted, and he seems to have given up the
work before it was more than blocked out of the marble A
contemporary gives an interesting account of the energy which
possessed him while at work. " I have seen Michael Angelo, when
above sixty, and not very robust, make more fragments of the
marble fly off in a quarter of an hour than three vigorous young
sculptors would have done in an hour; and he worked with so
much impetuosity, and put such strength into his blows, that I
feared he would have broken the whole in pieces, for portions, the
8ize of three or four fin/*ers woie struck orT so near to the contoui

MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI. 189

For my own part I feel that the finish and smoothness
of the marble is hardly consistent with the vigour of
Michael Angelo's conceptions ; and I should regret to
think that such a genius should have wasted an hour
in giving softness or polish to the surface.

" Who is there, modern or ancient, that would thus
voluntarily encounter all the difficulties of the art
and throw the human body into this position, or who
could throw the shoulder into this violent distortion,
and yet preserve the relations of the parts, of bone and
muscle, with such scientific exactness? We have in
this great master a proof of the manner in which
genius submits to labour, in order to attain perfection.
He must have undergone the severe toil of the ana-
tomist, to acquire such a power of design, which it was
hardly to be supposed could be sufficiently appreciated
then or now.

" Without denying the beauty or correctness of the
true Grecian productions of the chisel, they ought not
to be contrasted with the works of Michael Angelo to
his disadvantage. He had a noble conception of the
august form of man : to my thinking, superior to any-
thing exhibited in ancient sculpture. Visconti * im-
putes inferiority to Buonarotti ; and to confirm his
views, compares the antique statues restored by him,
with the limbs and heads which he added. But I can
conceive nothing less suited to the genius of the artist
than this task of modelling and adjusting a limb in a
different position from that which is entire, and yet so
as to preserve the proportions and character of the
whole. The manner of his working and the urgency
of his genius for an unrestrained field of exertion,

or outline, that, if he erred by a hair's-breadth, he would have
spoiled all and lost his labour, since the defect could not have been
remedied as in working in clay." — Blaise de Vigenere,
* Museo Pio. Clem.

190 STUDIES OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTTI.

unfitted him for that kind of labour, while it is a
matter of necessity, that a copy shall be inferior to au
original.

44 What the figures of Night and Morning had to do
before the degenerate son of the Medici is another
matter. They seem to have been placed there as mere
ornaments, and in the luxury of talent, to give the
form and posture of the human figure, 4 per ornamento e
per solo spoggio di giacitura e de forme'

44 When in Eome I was impatient until I stood
before the statue of Moses, so much had been said
of its extraordinary merit,* and also so much of its
defects.j It is a noble figure, with all the energy
of Buonarotti displayed in it. It is not the ana-
tomy alone which constitutes its perfection; but
there is the same mind displayed in the attitude, the
habiliment, the beard, and all the accompaniments,
as in the vigour of the naked shoulders and arms.
It is the realisation of his high conception of the
human figure.

44 My brother, in his 4 Observations on Italy,' finds
fault with the arm, and, perhaps, looking in one
direction, it may be imperfect ; but this was one of
many figures which were intended by the artist to
ornament the great monument to Julius II. ; and,
consequently, designed to be seen only in a certain
aspect. if Besides, we ought rather to teach ourselves to
admire what is esteemed excellent than to seek for
defects. As to other criticisms on this statue, it should
be remembered that it is an ideal figure as much as the
Apollo or the Jupiter. From whatever notion derived,
Moses is represented with horns rising from his temples ;

* " Questo e Mose quando scenda del monte
E gran parte del Nume avea nel volto."
f " E una testa da satiro con capelli di porco."
% See the account of this great work in the <4Storia della
Scultura," by Cicognara.

ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE MUSCLES. 191

an adjunct which, placed either on the face of the
antique or of common nature, would have been truly
ndiculous."

To resume the subject of anatomy, we may take the
opinion of Vasari :* in addition to the study of the an-
tique he recommends the frequent examination of the
naked figure, of the action of the muscles of the back
and limbs, and the form and play of the joints ; and
takes occasion to advise the study of the dissected body,
in order to see the true position of the muscles, theii
classification and insertions ; so that by perfect know-
ledge of the structure the artist may with more secu-
rity represent the figure in every varying attitude,
bestowing, through a knowledge of their action, the
proper swelling and contour of the muscles, according
to their position and the force exerted ; and from this,
he truly observes, comes the power of invention, giving
natural variety to the figures, as in the representation
of a battle or great historical work.

And here I cannot help expressing a belief that, as
it is necessary that the young artist should have an
accurate eye to form, the drawing of the bones should
be substituted for what is called the " round," that
is, the fine indefinite and undulating surface of the
antique. By drawing the curious shapes of the thigh-
bone or tibia, he will sooner acquire a notion of external
form than if set to draw a foot and ankle, or knee
without an idea of what produces the convexities which
he is tracing. Drawing from the bones and from the
skeleton will give him a desire for learning more, and
afford an introduction to the classification and insertions
of the muscles, with perfect ease in representing, either
from nature or the antique, the slightly defined forms
Df the joints.

But, as we have seen in the works of the masters, let
* hi his Preface, " Da che habbia origine il buon disegno."

192 ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE MUSCLES.

him avoid exhibiting the anatomy or displaying his
knowledge, else he will fall into the caricature of
iuseli, instead of attaining the vigour of Buona-
rotti. Anatomy is not to be displayed, but its true
use is to beget an accurate observation of nature
in those slighter characteristics which escape a less
learned eye.

( 193 )

ESSAY X.

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER — FAULTS INTO WHICH
ARTISTS MAY BE BETRAYED IN STUDYING THE ANTIQUE
OR IN DRAWING FROM THE ACADEMY FIGURE — ANATOMI
AS CONDUCTING TO TRUTH OF EXPRESSION AND OF CHA-
RACTER.

It is interesting in a very high degree to mark the
traits of emotion, and to compare them with the
anatomical structure ; and amidst the severer studies of
anatomy, as connected with health and disease, I have
been able, without departing too far from professional
pursuits and duties, to pass many pleasant hours in
observing and investigating the anatomy of expression.
In the prosecution of anatomy we never know to what
results it may lead. The observations I have made on
the nervous system might be traced to investigations
on the present subject. I saw that the whole frame is
affected sympathetically with expression in the coun-
tenance ; and it was in trying to explain that sympathy,
that I was led to ascertain, that there exists in the body
a distinct system of nerves, the office of which is to
influence the muscles in Kespiration, in Speech, and in
Expression.

The study of the animal frame, as it is affected by
emotion and passion, is nearly related to philosophy,
and is a subject of great difficulty and delicacy. The
question is often discussed, of what use is anatomy to
the painter ? The study of anatomy has been objected
to by some persons of pure taste, and from the belief

0

194 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER.

that it leads to the representation of the lineaments of
death more than of life, or to monstrous exaggerations
of forms. So far this is the case, when an artist
without natural talent, or right feeling, will rather
exhibit the bones or muscles than the fine forms of
health and vigour. But we return to the question,
what are the advantages to be gained from this study
by the artist ? As we may define anatomy to be the
examination of that structure by which the mind
expresses emotion, and through which the emotions are
controlled and modified, it introduces us to the know-
ledge of the relations and mutual influences which exist
between the mind and the body. To the painter,
therefore, the study is necessarily one of great import-
ance ; it does not teach him to use his pencil, but it
teaches him to observe nature, to see forms in their
minute varieties, which but for the principles here
elucidated would pass unnoticed, — to catch expressions
so evanescent that they must escape him, did he not
know their sources. It is this reducing of things to
their principles which elevates his art into a connexion
with philosophy, and which gives it the character of a
liberal art.

By anatomy in its relation to the arts of design, 1
understand not merely the study of the individual and
dissected muscles of the face, or body, or limbs, — but
the observation of all the characteristic varieties which
distinguish the frame of the body or countenance. A
knowledge of the peculiarities of infancy, youth, or age ;
of sickness or robust health ; or of the contrasts between
manly and muscular strength and feminine delicacy ;
Dr of the appearances which pain or death present,
belongs to its province as much as the study of the
muscles of the face when affected m emotion. Viewed
in this comprehensive light, anatomy forms a science,
not only of great interest, but one which will be sure to

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 195

give the artist a true spirit of observation, teach, him to
distinguish what is essential to just expression, and
direct his attention to appearances on which the effect
and force, as well as the delicacy of his delineations,
will be found to depend.

Among the errors into which a young artist is most
likely to be seduced, there are two against which the
study of anatomy seems well calculated to guard him.
The one is a blind and indiscriminate imitation of the
antique ; the other, an idea that he will find in the
academy figure a sure guide for delineating the natural
and true anatomy of the living body. He who makes
imitation of the antique the beginning and end of his
studies, instead of adopting it as a corrective of his
taste, will be apt to fall into a tame and lifeless style ;
and, in pursuing ideal beauty, will be in danger of
renouncing truth of expression and of character. Nay,
I suspect that many painters have copied casts of the
antique for years, without perfectly understanding
what they should imitate, or even perceiving the neces-
sity of previously studying the design of the artist, 01
the peculiarities of his mode of composition. Into this
fault, one who is learned in the science and anatomy of
painting can never fall. But he who has not compared
the natural with the antique head, nor understood the
characteristic differences, nor studied the principle on
which the ancient artists composed, may be betrayed
into the grossest misconceptions, by too implicitly
following their models. In painting a hero, for ex-
ample, on whom the Greek artist would have bestowed
a character of strength and grandeur, by bold anatomy
and expression, he may be following the ideal form of a
deity in which the sculptor had studiously divested his
model of all that might seem to pertain to humanity.
As I have before remarked, the ancient sculptor, in
accordance with the mythology of his country and the

o 2

196 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PA1JSTER.

spirit of her poetry, studied to shew the attributes of
divinity in the repose of the figure, without any indi-
cation of muscles or veins, and by a face stamped with
the mild serenity of a being superior to human passion ;
thus shadowing out a state of existence, in which the
will possessed freedom and activity, without the ac-
companying exertion of the bodily frame. But those
ideal forms are scarcely ever to be transferred to the
representation of the human body ; and a modern artist
who follows indiscriminately such models, misapplies
the noblest lessons of his art.

Independently of the ideal form of divinity, there are
also some peculiarities in the nature of the ancient
sculpture which ought to be well considered by the
student in modern painting.

In the infancy of their art, sculptors did not venture
to give to their figures either animation or character ;
they did not even open their eyelids, or raise the arm
from the side. A stillness and simplicity of composition
were thus the characteristics of ancient sculpture ; and
we are told that Pericles, even in the best period of
Grecian art, was anxious that his pupils should preserve
this feature of the early ages in all their works, as
essential to grandeur. The pleasure of being carried
back to old times seems to be a part of our nature, or,
at least, of the cultivated mind. So Pliny speaks of
retaining in everything about a villa its ancient sim-
plicity. It is observed accordingly, that among the
excellencies which distinguish the Greek artists, the
first and most admirable is that gravity of style, — that
sedate grandeur of expression, and prevailing tranquillity
of soul which still appear under the most terribl agita-
tion and passion. Upon this chaste model the taste in
sculpture was formed in the better ages of Greece and
Eome, and its influence has extended to modern times.

Unfortunately this style of composition has beer.

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. l[/7

taken as an additional authority for rejecting powerful
expression and character even from the canvass. But,
we must never forget the distinction between sculpture
and painting. The sculptor, indeed, as well as the
painter, has often to represent what is not consistent
with beauty ; while both must sometimes preserve
an indefiniteness, and soften all the harsher, though
strictly natural lines of expression. If the statues of
Michael Angelo and John of Bologna were as familiar
to us as the casts of the antique, they would probably
modify the prevailing opinions on this subject. Still
there is an essential difference between the principle
of composition in painting and in sculpture.

In the works of ancient artists we see a perpetual
effort to exalt their productions above the commonness
of nature. They studied a grand and general effect,
avoiding the representation of minuteness or sharpness
of feature, and of convulsions or distortions, however
strictly natural ; and, indeed, it is scarcely consistent
with the character of a statue to represent the transitory
effects of violent passion. The sculptor must exercise
his genius on the more sublime and permanent feelings,
as characterised in the countenance and figure ; and
much of the difficulty of his art consists in preventing
the repose which ought to be preserved in the attitude
and expression, from extinguishing all character, and
degenerating into tameness and indifference.

It is repose, and not absence of expression, that is to
be aimed at. The flashes of passion do not assort with
the material, while the languor and the gloom of the
features in grief are quite consistent with it. The
slaves and mutes on the pedestal of a monumental
statue may contribute to the effect ; they are mere
accessories, — as the frame to the picture. But this
principle does not apply to the painter ; to transfer to
his art the rules of composition ^hich flow from the

198 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAJNTEB.

study of ancient sculpture would endanger all in which
it is most excellent. As his materials do not permit a
close imitation of the actual forms of nature, a stronger,
and more natural character is to be adopted on the
canvass, than is proper to a statue. It is true, that he
may often maintain much of the same gravity of style
as the statuary, and that, in such compositions there
may be a certain august majesty ; some subjects require
this, and others only admit of it, provided the tone and
principle of composition be preserved, and the colouring
be low and sombre. In general, however, this is neither
accessary, nor perhaps suitable to a picture ; and it may
oe at least laid down, that where there is bold light and
vivid colouring, there should also be strong expression,
and bold characteristic drawing. A painting, with high
finishing and bright colouring, demands minute ex-
pression, because the same circumstances which display
the natural colour, bring out a clear disclosure of the
parts, and a sharpness of expression in the features.

Thus the painter must study the traits of human
expression. The noblest aim of painting is unquestion-
ably to affect the mind, which can only be done by the
representation of sentiment and passion, — of emotion as
indicated by the figure and the countenance. But if it
be contended that an imposing stillness and tranquillity
must pervade the higher subjects of painting, I venture
to affirm that it is a tranquillity which he can never
attain who is not capable of representing all the violence
and agitation of passion. It is not such repose as
the artist who has despised or neglected natural cha-
racter may be able to represent, but such as he alone
can conceive and execute, who has studied all the
variety of expression, and learned the anatomy of the
face and limbs in their most violent action. Nay,
tranquillity or repose in the strict sense of the words,
can only be truly represented by one who can with

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 199

equal facility give energy to the features and figure ;
for in rest there must be character, and thai character
will best be expressed by him who has studied the
effect of the action of the muscles. It ought also to be
remembered that repose and agitation must ever greatly
depend on contrast and opposition. There are few
grand subjects in history or mythology, in which the
tranquillity and higher beauty of expression in the
main figure does not borrow some aid from the contrast
of the harsher features, more marked characters, and
more passionate gestures of the surrounding groups.

Perhaps I have sufficiently pointed out how dangerous
it is for one who aims at excelling as a painter to imi-
tate too closely and indiscriminately the productions of
ancient sculpture. But it is natural for the student to
believe that the study of the academy figure may serve
as a guard against all such danger ; and afford him a sure
criterion for judging of the anatomy of his figures.

Where is the artist to find the principles of his art
when he desires to express mental suffering under all
those influences which form the subjects of design in
the higher departments of art, and especially in historical
painting ; is he to grimace at himself in a mirror ? —
then he falls into caricature : is he to study the
expression of the actor? — then he represents what is
fantastic and theatrical. For what may be correct
representation on the stage is not correct in painting,
any more than it would be correct for the tragedian to
display on the stage those traits of expression with which
the physician is alone supposed to be familiar. Powers
of observation, cultivated by good taste, lead us to dis-
tinguish what is appropriate. The physician in study-
ing symptoms, the actor in personifying suffering, the
painter in representing it, or the statuary in embodying
it in marble, are observers of nature ; but each sees her
differently, and with a feeling influenced by his pursui t.

200 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER.

The study of the academy figure is, undoubtedly, essen-
tial ; but unless followed with some regard to science,
it necessarily leads to error. In the first place, it can
give no aid in reference to the countenance. Here
the lessons of anatomy, associated with the descrip-
tions of the great poets, and the study of the works
of eminent painters and sculptors, afford the only re-
source, But even for attaining a correct knowledge of
the body and limbs, the academy figure is far from being
an infallible guide. The display of muscular action in
the human figure is but momentary, and cannot be
retained and fixed for the imitation of the artist. The
effect produced upon the surface of the body and limbs
by the action of the muscles —the swelling and receding
of the fleshy parts, and that starting out of the sinews
or tendons, which accompany exertion or change of
posture, cannot be observed with sufficient accuracy,
unless the artist is able to class the muscles engaged in
the action ; and he requires some other guide to enable
him to recollect these varying forms, than that which
is afforded by a transitory view of them.

When the academy figure first strips himself, there is
a symmetry and accordance in all the limbs ; but when
screwed up into a posture, they indicate constraint and
want of balance. It cannot be supposed that when
a man has the support of ropes to preserve him in a
position of exertion, the same action of muscles can be
displayed as if the limbs were supported by their own
efforts ; hence in all academy drawings we may perceive
something wrong from the ropes not being represented
along with the figure. In natural action there is a
consent and symmetry in every part. When a man
clenches his fist in passion, the other arm does not lie
in elegant relaxation ; when the face is stern and
vindictive, there is energy in the whole frame ; when a
man rises from his seat in impassioned gesture, a certain
tension and straining pervades every limb and feature.

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 201

This universal state of the body it is difficult to excite
in those who are accustomed to sit to painters ; they
watch his eye, and where they see him intent, they
exert the muscles. The painter, therefore, cannot
trust to the man throwing himself into a natural
posture; he must direct him, and be himself able to
catch, as it were intuitively, what is natural and
reject what is constrained. Besides, those soldiers and
mechanics who are employed as academy figures are
often awkward and un wieldly ; hard labour, or the stiff
habits of military training, have impaired the natural
and easy motion of their joints.

Until the artist has gained a perfect knowledge of the
muscles, and is able to represent them in action without
losing the general balance of the figuie, he is apt to
produce an appearance like spasm or cramp in the limbs,
from one part being in action, while the other is in
repose. For it is always to be remembered, that whether
the body be alive or dead, whether the limbs be in action
or relaxed in sleep, an uniform character must pervade
the composition. Whether the gently undulating line
of relaxed muscle be the prevailing outline, or the parts
be large and strong, and the muscles prominent, bold and
turgid, there must be perfect accordance, or there will
be no truth of expression.

I think, that in the sketches, and even in the finished
paintings of some artists, I have observed the effect of
continuing to draw from the model or from the naked
figure, without due attention to the regulated action of
the muscles. I have seen paintings, where the grouping
was excellent and the proportions exact, yet the figures
stood in attitudes when they were meant to be in
action ; they were fixed as statues, and communicated
to the spectator no idea of exertion or of motion. This
sometimes proceeds, I have no doubt, from a long-
continued contemplation of the antique, but more fre-
quently from drawing after the still and spiritless

202 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER.

academy figure. The knowledge of anatomy is neces-
sary to correct this ; but chiefly, a familiar acquaintance
with the classification of the muscles, and the pecu-
liarities and effect of their action.

The true use of the living figure is this ; — after the
artist has studied the structure of the bones and the
groupings of the muscles, he should observe attentively
the play of the muscles and tendons when the body is
thrown into action and attitudes of violent exertion ; —
he should especially mark their changes during the
striking out of the limbs. By such a course of ob-
servation he will soon be able to distinguish between
posture and action, and to avoid that tameness which
results from neglecting the effects of the alternate
contraction and relaxation of the muscles. And with
this view, after having learned to draw the figure, the
painter would do well to make the model go through
the exercise of pitching the bar, or throwing, or striking.
^Te will then find that it is chiefly when straining in a
fixed posture that there is a general tension and equal
prominence of the muscles ; and that in the free actions
of the limbs, a few muscles only swell out, while their
opponents are relaxed and flattened. He will not,
perhaps, be able at once to catch the character of
muscular expression, and commit it to paper ; but
having an accurate knowledge of the muscles, according
to their uses, and the effect of each action in calling
particular sets of them into activity, knowing to what
points his observation should be applied, and how his
preconceived notions are to be corrected by the actual
appearance of the limb, each succeeding exhibition of
muscular exertion will advance his progress in the
delineation of the figure. Hence it may well be said,
that anatomy is the true basis of the arts of design ;
and it will infallibly lead those to perfection who,
favoured with genius, can combine truth and simplicity
with the higher graces and charms of the art. It

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 203

bestows on the painter a minuteness and readiness of
observation, which he cannot otherwise attain ; and I am
persuaded, that while it enables him to give vigour
to the whole form, it teaches him to represent niceties
of expression, which would otherwise pass unnoticed.

Even in drawing from a particular model, the artist
versed in anatomy has a great superiority. When I have
seen one unacquainted with the internal structure,
drawing from the naked figure or from a statue, I have
remarked the difficulty which he experienced in shewing
the course of a swelling muscle or the slight depressions
and convexities about a joint ; and this difficulty might
be traced to his ignorance of the relations and actions
of the muscles. The same perplexity he often feels in
drawing the knobbed ends of the bones or the insertions
of the tendons, at the articulations : for these parts
being covered over by the integuments, and cushions of
fat of variable thickness, and sheathed in membranes,
are but faintly marked on the surface. The delicate
and less definite indications of the anatomy, though
easily traced by one acquainted with the structure of
the limb, appear to the uninformed only unmeaning
variations in the outline ; he has no means of judging
their importance, and he is subject to continual mistakes
in attempting to imitate them.

Suppose that a young artist, not previously grounded
in anatomy, is about to sketch a figure or a limb, his
execution will be feeble, and he will commit many
errors if he endeavour merely to copy what is placed
before him — to transcribe, as it were, a language which
he does not understand. He sees an undulating surface,
with the bones and processes of the joints faintly
marked ; he neglects the peculiar swelling of the
muscles, to which he should give force, as implying
motion ; he makes roundings merely ; he is incapable of
representing the elegant curved outline of beauty, with
decision and accuracy, and of preserving at the same

204 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER.

time the characters of living action. Drawing what he
does not understand, he falls into tameness or deviates
into caricature.

But with a knowledge of anatomy, if he attempt the
Bame task, his acquaintance with the skeleton will
enable him to make his first outline of the figure with
truth and ease, and preserve its various proportions ;
and the study of the muscles will enable him to give force
to the muscular parts, and to represent the joints
accurately without exaggeration.

It is, however, in composing, much more than in
copying, that this knowledge is truly useful Without
it, all the original efforts of genius must be checked and
repressed. Every change of posture is accompanied by
muscular action, and in proportion to the painter's ignor-
ance of the cause of those changes, all his designs will
be cramped and restrained. Leonardo da Vinci gives
formally as a precept, what is self-evident to an ana-
tomist: " In naked figures, those members must show
their muscles most distinctly and boldly, upon which the
greatest stress is laid ; in comparison with which the
rest must appear enervate." " Eemember, further, to
make the muscles most visible on that side of any member
which it puts forward to action." Such rules and precepts
are rather the result of anatomical study than useful to
one ignorant of the subject, in pointing out how effect is
to be produced. It is not by following such recom-
mendations that the end is to be accomplished, but by
enriching the mind with frequent observation of the
changes which are displayed by action, and forming
rules for their representation. For example, in vigorous
action there is a general tension of the whole frame ;
but in order to produce a particular motion, a certain
class of muscles is brought into stronger action than the
rest ; and the nature of the motion is expressed by
marking the arrangement of the muscles. If a man be
merely pointing upwards a graceful simplicity may be

TJSTCS OF ANATOMY TO THE TAINTEK. 205

all that the painter can attain, or should attempt ; but
if he is bringing down a heavy sword to make a blow,
the muscles will start into strong exertion, and the
idea of mighty action will be conveyed by repre-
senting those swelling muscles of the chest which pull
down the arm and give the sweep to the whole body.
Thus, to compose with truth and force, it is necessary
that the painter should not only know the place and
form of the bones and muscles, but that he should also
have an accurate conception of the classing of the
muscles in action.*

Perhaps I may best convey my idea oi the advantage
to be derived from this study, by contrasting two young
artists drawing from a figure ; the one trusting to his
untutored genius, the other assisted by a knowledge of
anatomy. The first is seen copying bit by bit, and

* " Socrates one day paid a visit to Clito, the statuary, and in
the course of conversation said to him, ' We ail know, Clito, that
you execute a variety of figures ; some in the attitude of the race,
and others in the several exercises of wrestling, of pugilism, and of
the pancratium ; but with regard to the quality which particularly
captivates the soul of the spectator, — I mean their correct resem-
blance to the life, — how is this property wrought into your pro-
ductions ? ' As Clito hesitated for a reply, Socrates quickly rejoins,
'Is it not by endeavouring to imitate the configuration of the
bodies of those who are actually engaged in those exertions of skill
and activity that you succeed?' ' Without doubt,' said the artist.
* Well, then,' resumed the philosopher, ' you study, under the various
gestures and attitudes of the living body, what parts are drawn
up out of their natural situation, or carried in a contrary direction
below it. Some which undergo compression, others an unnatural
elevation ; some which are thrown into a state of extension, others
which become relaxed ; all this you imitate, and hence you produce
that fidelity, that accuracy, which we admire.' The artist ac-
quiesced in the remark. 'And the expression of the passions,
again,— how great a pleasure does this produce to the spectator!
' Surely,' replied Clito. 4 Thus those who are in the actual conflict
of the battle, are they not to be repiesented as bearing menaces in
their eyes, while satisfaction and joy should sit upon the coun-
tenances of the victorious ? ' * Unquestionably.' * It is then
equally the business of the statuary to transfuse into his pro-
ductions the workings and emotions of the mind.'" — Xenophon:
Memorabilia, Lib. iii. cap. x. p. 6.

206 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER.

measuring from point to point ; and the effect, aftel
much labour, is an accurate outline. The other seizes
the chief characters of the attitude with facility ; be-
cause his knowledge of the skeleton has enabled him to
balance the trunk upon the limbs, and give the con-
tours boldly. The turn of the limbs, the masses cf
muscle, and the general forms of the joints, are touched
with a slight but accurate hand, and the spirit and life
of the original are recognised at once. Even in the
early stage of his drawing, while his rival is copying
parts, he will present the foundation of a correct and
spirited sketch ; as he can convey the general idea by
a few lines, he also excels in finishing the minute
parts.

But this superiority is still better shewn if the model
be removed from these two young painters, and they
draw the figure from recollection ; or if, keeping the
model before them in its original posture, they are
required to alter the attitude. Let us take for example
the fighting gladiator. Instead of a young warrior
pushing on with great energy, let their task be to
represent him receiving the blow of his antagonist,
which forces down his shield upon his breast, or brings
him with his knee to the ground, as it is beautifully
represented on some medals. Can we doubt for a mo-
ment which will excel ? The one will copy from memory
his original drawing, or with great difficulty twist the
erect limbs of the statue into a couching posture, while
the other will gain by his greater freedom. Eetaining
the general air, like one who had understood what he
copied, he is aware that a new class of muscles comes
into action, while those formerly in exertion are relaxed ;
he knows that the bending of the limbs increases their
measurements ; he knows how to represent the joints in
their new postures ; in short, he gives to his figure
energy and effect.

It is a mistake to suppose that, because in many of

USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER. 207

the finest pictures the anatomy is but faintly indicated,
the study may not be necessary to a painter. Even
that which in the linished picture is intended merely
to give the idea of muscular exertion, should have its
foundation laid in the sketch, by a correct and strong
drawing of the full action. It is true, that the sketch
is too often a mere indication of the painter's design,
intended to be worked up to the truth of representation
as he transfers it to the canvas, — that the outlines of
the figures are rather shadowy forms, undefined in their
minute parts, than studies of anatomical expression, or
as guides in the subsequent labour. And, perhaps, it
is for this reason that there have been many painters,
whose sketches all admire, but whose finished paintings
fall short of public expectation. But a sketch that is
without vigour, and in which the anatomy has not been
defined, is a bad foundation for a good picture ; and
even a little exaggeration in this respect is not only
agreeable, but highly useful. The anatomy should be
strongly marked in the original design ; and from the
dead colouring to the finishing, its harshness and rugged-
ness should be gradually softened into the modesty of
nature. The character of a sketch is spirit and life ;
the finished painting must combine smoothness and
accuracy. That which was a harsh outline in the
sketch, or the strong marking of a swelling muscle, or
the crossing of a vein, will be indicated in the finished
composition, perhaps only by a tinge of colour. The
anatomy of the finished picture will always be most
successful, and even most delicate, where the painter
has a clear conception of the course and swelling of
each muscle and vein which enters into the delineation
of the action.

While artists neglect the study of anatomy, as con-
nected with character and expression in painting, they
never can attain the " vantage ground " of their pro-
fession. Perhaps it is also to be feared, that while

208 USES OF ANATOMY TO THE PAINTER.

only a few artists are versed in this science, they will
be apt to caricature nature ; they are learned above their
rivals ; it is their forte, and they are solicitous to display
it. But were the study of anatomy more general, the
same spirit and love of originality, which tempt them to
a style bordering on deformity, would make those very
men seek distinction by combining grace, and the other
qualities of fine painting, with truth and expression.

It is not enough, however, that the painter should
improve himself in the knowledge of anatomy : public
attention must also be directed to its importance. For
as necessity precedes invention in the origin of the
arts, so must general good taste precede or accompany
their improvement. The mere conviction in the mind
of the painter, that anatomy is essential to the per-
fection of his art, will seldom be sufficient to insure his
application to a very difficult and somewhat repulsive
study. The knowledge and opinion of the public must
force him to the task, and encourage his labour by the
assurance of its merited reward.

APPENDIX.

ON

THE NERVOUS SYSTEM,

BY

ALEXANDER SHAW.

In many parts of this work references are made to an Essay
upon the Nervous System ; and the last edition contained such
an essay. But on examining the copy intended for the present
°dition, it was found that the author had drawn his pen through
the essay, and had not composed another to supply its place,
it cannot be doubted that he intended to reconstruct that part
of the work ; and as some account of his observations on the
Nervous System, which bear upon the questions discussed in
the volume, may be interesting, I have been requested to give a
short review of his opinions. I enter upon the task with rnuct
diffidence.

It is stated, in various parts of the essays, that a distinct Class
of Nerves is provided, in the human body, for controlling th<2
organ of Respiration ; and that it is that class which is prin-
cipally affected by passion and emotion, so as to give rise to the
phenomena of Expression.

In Man, the organ of Breathing is constructed in such a
manner, that besides ministering to the oxygenation of the blood,
its primary office in the economy, it is the instrument of Voice
and of Expression, — two properties which bear relation to his
Intellectual nature. In order to adapt the organ to these endow

P

210

OF THE NERVES.

merits, it is necessary that the mechanism should have a form
and arrangement distinct from that in the lower animals, where
it serves for purifying the blood alone : and as a correspondence
always exists between the structure of the moving parts of the
frame, and the nervous system, which regulates their actions,
the change in the construction of the organ is accompanied with
a change in the arrangement of the nerves. Accordingly, by
comparing the nervous system in the inferior animals, with its
order and distribution in man, the author found that a distinct
class of nerves is appropriated, in the human frame, to the ornan
of Eespiration : and to that class he gave the name Respiratory
Nerves.

But that conclusion was not arrived at till many other impor-
tant observations had been previously made on the functions of
the Nervous System. Medical science has been indebted to the
author of this volume for improvements in our knowledge of the
Nerves, only to be compared, for their extent and value, with
those introduced by Harvey, by his discovery of the Circulation
of the Blood. Although no parts of the living body have excited
greater interest, since anatomy was first studied, than the Brain
and the Nerves ; yet when Sir Charles Bell entered upon his
researches into the subject, he found it involved in so much
3onfusion, and surrounded by so many difficulties apparently in-
surmountable, that physiologists had almost ceased to prosecute
it. Errors on points which bore on the first elements of the
inquiry, had taken deep root. He succeeded in removing these
errors, and in establishing a new principle of investigation. By
adopting that principle as his guide, he was rewarded not only by
making discoveries of the utmost value to medicine, but by com-
municating a fresh impulse to the labours of other physiologists
in the same field.

The error which formerly prevailed, and had the greatest
effect in retarding improvement, was this : — It was taken for
granted that all parts of the nervous system had certain general
properties belonging to them in common ; so that all were
considered alike in function. The Brain, including the Spinal
Marrow, was looked upon as a common store, from which
certain powers, such as that of motion, were issued to the body,
and into which others, such as sensation, were received, the
nerves being regarded as the conductors; and, in conformity

OF THE NEBVES.

211

with that view, it was further supposed that any part of the
brain, or any single nerve, had equal power with all the rest of
bestowing the numerous properties commonly assigned to the
nervous system. For the sake of illustration, let us take the
nerves of the lower extremities ; which come off from the spinal
marrow. It was conceived that these nerves were all simple
in structure ; and that, nevertheless, they had the double pro-
perty of conveying the power of motion and of sensation, to the
limbs : and the spinal marrow, being regarded as a prolongation
of the Brain, was believed to transmit the powers of motion and
of sensation along the nerves, by all its parts promiscuously.

Certain facts probably diverted the minds of physiologists
from perceiving the correct views. When we examine the
structure of a Nerve, it is found to consist of a number of
distinct fibrils, like threads, laid parallel, connected loosely
together, and contained in a common sheath ; and when the
fibrils are inspected narrowly it is impossible to perceive any
difference between them ; ail are exactly alike in size, colour,
and consistence. This similarity of structure, it may be sup-
posed, would lead to the inference, that the functions of the
fibrils were the same. Then, as to the Brain; although sub-
divided into several masses of different forms and textures,
which give the appearance at first sight of its being composed of
separate organs, yet a remarkable uniformity prevails in the
general structure of the brain ; the distinct substances of which
it consists (the medullary and cineritious) are so variously inter-
mingled and diffused, that it seems unavoidable to conclude that
its powers are held in common, and are exercised by a combined
operation of all its component parts. Again, the phenomena of
certain diseases and accidents would probably give strength to
the mistaken views. When a person is wounded in the leg, and
a principal nerve cut across, the lower part of the limb, isolated
from the brain, is deprived both of motion and sensation. If
the spinal marrow be crushed, or disorganised by disease, so
that the communication between the brain and the nerves
beyond the seat of injury, is destroyed, total paralysis ensues,
that is, the limbs lose both motion and sensation. When a
man is struck down by apoplexy, owing to sudden effusion of
blood into the brain from a ruptured vessel, he is deprived in-
stantaneously of both motion and Sensation, These occurrences,

p 2

212

OF THE NERVES.

ifcei w ith daily, would naturally lead to the belief that sensation
and motion were inseparably united in all the different forma
of the nervous system ; and when it was imagined that two such
distinct functions could belong to the same rjart, it would not
be inconsistent to believe that other powers could be combined
with them.

Bu^, Sir Charles Bell had not long commenced his investiga-
tions, when it occurred to him that it was contrary to reason to
suppose that two functions so essentially distinct from each other
as motion and sensation, could belong to the same nerve. Let
us consider the direction in which, the nervous agency which
gives rise to motion, must necessarily be conveyed along a nerve
to produce muscular contraction. As the volition originates in
the brain, and the force, whatever it is, which acts upon the
nerve must be propagated to the muscle, it is obvious that the
force will proceed outwardly or centrifugal] y. But when a.
sensation is felt, as the effect must be produced by an impression
being made upon the extremity of the nerve expanded on the
skin, and by that being conveyed to the sensorium, it follows
that the course of the nervous agency must be inwardly, or
centripetally. Hence the force which, causes muscular contrac-
tion passes along a nerve in one direction, and that which causes
sensation in a contrary direction : and it is inconsistent to suppose
that the same nerve, or same portion of the nervous centres,
could minister to both functions at once.

The fundamental principle of the author's discoveries was
originally announced in nearly the following terms : — The nerves
of the body possess distinct and appropriate functions, corre-
sponding with the parts of the brain and spinal marrow with
which they are connected at their roots; and when a nerve*
which appears simple, is found to bestow more than one endow-
ment, it is a sign that that nerve has more than one origin from
the brain, and consists in reality of several nerves joined together.

The mode by which this principle was demonstrated and
established to be a law in physiology, was as follows : —

The author first directed attention to the nerves of the Organa
of the Senses. These nerves were formerly conceived to be so
closely allied to each other, that their functions were regarded
rather as modifications of one common property, than as distinct
and specific. Thus it was supposed that the nerve of one organ

OF THE NERVES.

213

of sense coiiKt be the substitute for the nerve of another, if
transposed to that organ. For example, it was believed that the
optic nerve, on which vision depends, could bestow sensation
or pain like a nerve of the skin ; and vice versa. Bu t the author
proved these opinions to be incorrect. He showed that each
nerve of sense is limited to receiving a distinct and appropriate
impression ; that the nerve of vision can only give ideas of light
and colour ;* the nerve of hearing, impressions of sound ; the
nerve of smelling, the perception of odours ; and so on. He
further showed that these special properties depended on each of
the nerves of sense having its root in a distinct portion of the
brain, provided for receiving its own peculiar impression. Thi3
fact could not be easily demonstrated by referring to the human
brain alone, where, owing to the organs of sense and the in-
tellectual capacities related to them, having reached their
highest point of development, the structure is very complex ; but
it could be satisfactorily made out with the assistance of com-
parative anatomy. When we examine the inferior classes of
animals, it is not found that those lowest in the scale possess
the same number of organs of sense which belong to the higher;
on the contrary, the organs are bestowed gradually, one after
another, in correspondence with the progressive advancement of
the creatures in the scale of animal existence. As new organs
are added, appropriate nerves appear, which communicate with
the central part of the nervous system, analogous to the brain,
of the animal, That elementary brain consists, at first, of mere
swellings, or accumulations of nervous substance, called " gan-
glions," collected about the mouth: and it is observed that,
according as additional organs of sense, with their nerves, are

* He illustrated that fact in the following manner. Pressure
applied to the surface of the eye, between the eyelids, gives ri.-e to
pain more acute than that felt in the skin generally, but still of a
similar kind ; a sense of touch. But pressure applied to the side
of the eye, so as to affect the retina within, produces the appearance
of a halo of variously coloured light before the eye, or a totally
different kind of sense from touch. In couching for cataract, the
needle, when piercing the outer part of the eye, gives rise to pain,
— to a sensation like that of pricking the skin; when it enters
more deeply and transfixes the retina, it gives rise to an appear-
ance like that of a spark of fire ; that is, a sense of light and colour,
quite different from touch.

214

OF THE NERVES.

introduced, new ganglions make their appearance : for the pur-
pose, as it is reasonably concluded, of ministering to the new
species of sense conferred on the animal. In proportion as the
organization approaches in resemblance to that of man, the gan-
glions enlarge, coalesce, and become changed in form, so as to be
distinguished with difficulty from each other: but they continue
even in the highest animals, to be called after the organs of sense
over which they are supposed to preside : hence they get the
names of Optic ganglions or lobes, Olfactory lobes. Auditory
lobes, &c. That was the first step taken by the author, to show
that the nerves possess distinct functions ; and that they obtain
these from being connected with subdivisions of the brain, which
have also distinct endowments.

The next stage in his progress was marked by more striking
results. His object was now to explain how the nerves, known
to bestow Motor power and Sensation conjointly, are endowed
with that double property.

It may here be stated, that by far the greatest number of the
nerves which supply the body generally, arise from the Spinal
Marrow. Now, the way in which he proceeded to ascertain the
source of the double power possessed by the spinal nerves, was
this. He took one of them, for example, a nerve of the arm ;
and tracing it from the arm tow7ards its origin in the spinal
marrow, he observed that as it approached that organ, it sub-
divided into two parts, called its roots — and that one of the roots
entered a division of nervous substance, distinct from the other ;
one root being further distinguished by having a swelling upon
it termed a ganglion.

That such was the mode of origin of all tbe spinal nerves, had
long been well known to anatomists; yet no physiological con-
clusion had been drawn from it. But, following the principle
which guided him in his researches, the author was led to suppose
that roots, which thus proceeded from distinct portions of the
spinal marrow, would possess distinct endowments. He there-
fore inferred, that one of the roots might be that wrhich gave
motion, while the other might be that which gave sensatio?i ; and,
assuming this view to be correct, he further supposed, that the
reason why a spinal nerve possessed both motion and sensation
was, that the nerve was in reality double, being compounded of
fibrils from two distinct roots.

OF THE NEIiVESs.

215

Accordingly, he proceeded to verify his opinion by experiments
made directly upon the roots of the spinal nerves, and also by
observations and experiments on nerves of the Brain, some of
which resemble the spinal nerves in structure, while others differ
from them. Following that course of investigation, he proved by
indisputable evidence, — that the root which passes to the posterior
division of the spinal marrow, and has a ganglion upon it, bestows
sensation alone ; and that the root which goes to the anterior
divisien, gives motion alone. Thus he established, for the first
time, the important fact, that nerves of Sensation are distinct
from those of Motion.

It has just been stated, that the author had recourse to observa-
tions and experiments on the nerves of the Brain, to assist him
in drawing his conclusions as to the distinct functions of the
roots of the spinal nerves : I may therefore describe shortly the
results of his inquiries into the distinction between the motor
and sensitive nerves of that organ.

With one exception, all the nerves which arise from the Brain
and issue from the skull to supply different parts of the Head,
instead of having, like the spinal nerves, double roots, have
single roots. A series of these single-rooted nerves arise in a
continuous line from a prolongation in the brain of that division
or tract of the spinal marrow, which gives off the anterior or
motor roots of the spinal nerves.

The nerve which forms the exception, is the " Fifth " nerve as
it is termed. Previous to the author's investigations, the anatomy
of the roots of that nerve, although correctly described in some
works, had attracted no particular interest; and the most
important points connected with it were commonly passed over
unnoticed. The author observed that the Fifth is singular
among the nerves of the Brain, in having double roots, like the
nerves of the Spinal Marrow ; and that while one root arises from
the continued tract of the spinal marrow which gives off the
motor roots, the other on which, as in the posterior roots of the
spinal nerves, a ganglion is formed, penetrates to a considerable
depth, in order tc arise from the tract which sends off the
posterior, or sensitive roots.

First, in regard to the experiments on nerves which arise by
single roots from the brain. The nerve first selected to illustrate
the functions of that series, was the one which passes to the

216

OF THE NERVES.

Tongue, and is called the Ninth. Arising from the division of
the spinal marrow which givt s off the anterior roots, just as that
division begins to unite with the brain, or at the top of the spinal
marrow, the Ninth cerebral nerve may be regarded, in its ana-
tomical structure, as an anterior root of a spinal nerve, not
joined by any posterior root. The nerve having come off in that
manner, passes out immediately, through an appropriate hole
in the base of the skull, and without being joined by the fibrils
of any other nerve, is distributed to the Tongue. It is remarked
that in its passage to the tongue, it avoids going to the surface,
endowed with sensibility ; and exhausts all its branches in sup-
plying the various muscles which move the organ. When this
nerve was cut across in experiment, it was found that the tongue
was instantaneously deprived of the power of motion : but the
sensibility was unimpaired. It was accordingly proved that as
the Ninth resembles the anterior roots of the spinal nerves in its
mode of origin, it resembles them in function, and is exclusively
a Motor nerve.

Next, in regard to the experiments on the Fifth nerve. It will
be understood from the Plan, that although this nerve resembles
the spinal nerves, in the general structure of its roots, one of them,
the ganglionic (corresponding with the posterior spinal roots), is
greatly larger than the root without a ganglion. It may also be
seen, that shortly after its origin, the whole nerve subdivides into
three great trunks, which ramify over the entire head ; and that
the smaller root joins only one of the trunks, called the third or
inferior maxillary, which supplies the lower part of the face, and
the muscles of the jaws. Hence the first and second great branches
are simple in structure, being formed entirely of fibrils from the
larger, or ganglionic, root ; while the third is in part compound,
from containing fibrils of the lesser root.

Referring to Plate IV., it may be observed that two large
branches, one above and the other below the orbit, marked re-
spectively I. and II., issue from the bones of the face to go to
parts already abundantly supplied by another nerve, the ponio
dura : these are branches, as may be seen in the Plan, of the
first two trunks of the fifth, derived from the ganglionic root
alone. Now it was found that when these branches, called the
supra-orbitary and mfra-orbitary nerves, were exposed in a
living animal, it gave the most acute pain to prick or squeeze

OF THE SERVES. 217

them : and when they were cut across, the whole surface of the

face to which they are sent, was deprived instantaneously of
sensation ; so entirely was sensation destroyed that the skin

2x8

OF THE NERVES.

could be cut or pinched without the animal being conscious of
the injury — without its wincing; and yet the motion of the
parts was perfectly retained. Again, when the third or inferior
maxillary trunk, composed of the two roots conjoined, was
similarly exposed, and cut across above the point of union, pain
was experienced in the operation, and the parts to which it is
sent were deprived of sensation; but an additional effect was
produced — the muscles of the jaws, to which the fibrils of the
smaller root go, were paralysed. Hence the conclusion was
obvious, that the larger root of the fifth nerve is endowed with
Sensation, and the smaller with Motion ; and that is only where
fibrils of the two roots are combined, that the nerve can give both
properties at once. Hence, also, confirmation was given to the
deductions drawn from the experiments on the roots of the Spinal
nerves ; the root of the Fifth cerebral nerve, analogous in structure
to the posterior roots of the spinal nerves, having been shewn to
bestow Sensation, it was an additional proof that the function of
the posterior spinal roots was to confer Sensation : and the root
of the Fifth, analogous to the anterior roots of the spinal nerves,
having been shewn to bestow Motion, it was an additional proof
that the function of the anterior spinal roots wTas to confer Motion.

The author next selected for experiment another nerve, which
springs from a different part of the brain from the ninth or
fifth, — the Facial nerve, or Portio Dura. This nerve arises by
a simple root, and, without mixing its fibrils with those of any
other, appears externally before the ear, as represented by A in
Plate IV. and is distributed to the face. It had been hitherto
believed that the portio dura was capable of bestowing both
motion and sensation. But the author proved that this nerve
was limited to giving motor power. By making a small incision
through the skin, not larger than that for bleeding, he exposed
the nerve in a monkey, — an animal which he considered better
adapted than any other for the experiment, owing to the well-
known mobility and activity of its features : when the nerve
was laid bare and cut, the motions of the corresponding side of
the countenance were at once and entirely extinguished ; but the
sensibility was unimpaired. It was even observed, as an addi-
tional proof that sensation does not depend upon the portio dura,
that the animal manifested no signs of pain during the act ol
cutting it through, or pinching it.

OF THE NERVES.

2L9

It will be admitted that the facts and reasoning now brought
forward, were sufficient alone to establish the truth of the general
proposition — That nerves of Sensation are distinct from nerves ei
Motion : and that to different parts of the Brain and Spinal
Marrow, belong distinct and appropriate endowments. But addi-
tional proofs of a still more convincing and interesting kind were
soon obtained, by observing the effects of disease in the nervous
system of Man himself. Numerous cases early presented them-
selves where morbid changes in the structure of the Brain, Spinal
Marrow, or Boots of the nerves, in man, gave rise to phenomena
similar to those which follow experiments on the lower animals.*

For example, tumours sometimes grow within the vertebral
canal, where the spinal marrow is lodged, and develop them-
selves in such a manner as to destroy one set of the roots of the
spinal nerves, without involving the other ; in these cases, only
one function of the nerves is lost : if the anterior roots be
affected, there is loss of motion ; if the posterior, there is loss of
sensation ; and the patient is in the singular condition of having
feeling in the limb, although he cannot move it : or he may be
able to move it and have no feeling. Cases of a similar kind
were met with more frequently in the face. Owing to the portio
dura, and fifth nerve, which supply the face, arising from parts of
the brain at a distance from each other, and the one taking a
circuitous course apart from the other, disease often affects one
nerve and destroys its function, without reaching the other. In
such cases, where the portio dura is affected, the muscles of the
face are deprived of motion ; the patient can no longer knit his
brows, close his eyelids, inflate his nostril, or hold anything
between his lips ; expression is entirely lost, and, owing to the
muscles of the sound side dragging the paralysed cheek and lip
towards them, the face is distorted ; but there is no diminution
of sensibility in the half of the face, thus completely deprived of
motion. f But when the branches of the fifth nerve, wThich

* The cases referred to were recorded chiefly by the author's
zealous assistant in these pursuits, Mr. John Shaw.

t And it may be added, that no pain attends the loss of function.
Patients are seldom aware of their face having become paralysed,
until told by a trend, or it has been observed by themselves, in the
mirror. That is, the nerve, although formerly conceived to l>e
one of the most exquisitely sensitive parts of the body, undergoes *

£20

OF THE NLRVES.

emerge upon the face, and arise from the larger root alrne, are
affected, sensation is entirely lost, while motion is unimpaired.
For example, the surface of the eye, supplied by superficial
branches of the fifth, and a part so exquisitely sensible that if a
fine hair touches it there will be severe pain and spasm of the
eyelids, may, when the nerve is destroyed, be rudely pressed
with the finger, and the patient will nevertheless be unconscious
of pain ; or if the surface be inflamed,* and it be necessary to
scarify it with the point of the lancet, in order to withdraw
blood, the patient will submit to the operation without pain,
and without even winking, although the eyelids retain their
power of closing, through the portio dura. It is from a morbid
condition of one or other of the branches of the fifth that the
excruciating paroxysms of pain in that dreadful disorder, tic
douloureux, are produced. Should the disease which affects the
nerve be situated close to its origin, so as to include both roots,
then motion will be lost, as well as sensation ; besides, all the
surfaces of the head which are supplied by the larger, sensitive
root, being deprived of sensation, the muscles of the jaws
supplied by the lesser root will be paralyzed : so that the patient,
in eating, will neither be sensible of the presence of the food in
the affected side of his mouth, nor be able to chew it.

From such examples as the above, some idea may be formed
of the benefits conferred upon medical science by the discoveries
in the nervous system thus shortly described. While it con-
process of disorganization sufficient to deprive it of its function, and
yet the patient suffers no pain. This is accounted for by the portio
dura being simply a nerve of motion, and having no power of
bestowing sensation, or of giving pain,

* Loss of sensation in the eye, from disease affecting the ophthalmic
branches of the fifth, is often followed by inflammation, which ter-
minates in the destruction of the organ. This is caused by the eye
having been deprived of its important guardian, the sensibility,
which induces not only winking, but other efforts, to protect the
tender surface from injury; dust, and other irritating particles,
lodge beneath the eyelids, and without causing pain, set up in-
flammatory action. Cases are sometimes met with, where the
surface of the eye has lost sensation, but where (owing to another
nerve, the third, being also affected) the upper eyelid has per-
manently dropped, so as to cover the eye, and defend it from
injury : in these cases, inflammation does not occur, and the eye
preserves its transparency.

OF THE NERVES.

221

tinued to be believed that every nerve, from whatever part it
came, had the same kind of functions, and that the different
divisions of the brain and spinal marrow were alike, it followed
that, when a case occurred of partial loss of sensation or of motion
in any part of the body, the physician was led to conclude that
disease had commenced in the brain ; and his treatment was
conducted on that supposition. But when it was proved that
the nerves had distinct endowments, it was readily understood
that the partial loss whether of motion or sensation, might
depend on an affection of the nerves after they had Lft the brain,
and were external to the skull, and consequently, that instead of
the symptoms indicating a serious, or perhaps fatal disease of the
brain, they might point to a comparatively harmless disorder.
In short, the knowledge now acquired of the nervous system
lends, every day, the most valuable aid to the practitioner; it
gives him means, not formerly in his power, of exploring disease,
and of tracing it along to the precise spot where it is situated.

On the Classification of the Nerves into the " Original" and
" Respiratory " Systems.

When the author had established the existence of the impor-
tant distinctions between the nerves of the cerebro-spinal system,*
just pointed out, it soon became apparent that other questions
remained to be solved concerning them. Having been led, in
following the principle of his researches, to view the different
modes in which the nerves arise from distinct subdivisions of the
central organs, as indicating a diversity of function, he was
forcibly struck by observing certain distinctions in the origins
and mode of distribution of particular groups of nerves. With
the object of ascertaining whether these anatomical differences
pointed to further differences of function, he proceeded, first, to

* The cerebrospinal nerves include all those which arise from
the Brain and Spinal Marrow. They are so called in contra-
distinction to the "Sympathetic" system, which consists of a
series of nerves and ganglions distributed tc the viscera of the
chest and abdomen, and in many important p. ints differing from
them.

222

0F THE NERVES.

examine the various parts of the body to which the nerves thug
coming from distinct divisions of the brain and spinal marrow,
are sent ; and, then, to compare the actions and uses of the part*
with each other.

When we take a general survey of the nerves of the human
body (excluding, for the present, the nerves of the Organs of the
Senses, and the Sympathetic system), it is remarked, that there
is one extensive series — so large that it embraces nearly all the
nerves together — distinguished by the regularity and symmetry
with which they are given off and pass to their destinations :
while there is another series, arising from a different part of the
nervous centres, remarkable for their partial and irregular dis-
tribution.

The first class consists principally of the Spinal Nerves.
Passing off from the whole length of the Spinal Marrow, at
intervals of about an inch from each other, these nerves go in
regular succession to the back of the head, the neck, the upper
extremities, the whole trunk, and the lower extremities ; and as
each nerve is composed of two roots, one for motion and the
other sensation, they bestow these double properties wherever
they are sent. To this extensive series must be added the
Fifth cerebral nerve, which both in structure and function, as
it has been already shown, is a spinal nerve ; by its larger root it
confers sensation on all parts of the head not supplied by the
superior spinal nerves ; and by its lesser root it gives the power
of motion to a limited set of muscles, viz. those by which
mastication is performed.

As to the second class, they arise near the point of union ot
the brain and spinal marrow, from a comparatively circumscribed
portion of cerebral structure ; the tract or division of nervous
substance from which they originate, is distinct from either ol
those which give off the roots of the spinal nerves and fifth
cerebral nerve ; and in passing out to the body, they course in a
radiating manner to parts of the head, neck, and chest, where
nerves of the former class are already plentifully distributed.
When we examine the structures thus supplied, we perceive that
they enter into the formation of the organ of Respiration.

Consequently, a question was here presented for solution —
What is the particular character of the organs superintended
by the first class, which distinguishes them from the organ of

OF THE NERVES.

223

Breathing supplied by a different class ; or that will account for
the former organs being supplied by a series of nerves so regular
in their origins and distribution, and so widely extended, as the
spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve ; while the respiratory
organ is provided with an appropriate set of nerves, comparatively
few in number, and differing in several anatomical features from
the others ?

To solve that problem, the author found it necessary to call
in the aid of comparative anatomy, and to take a general survey
of the nervous system as it is presented in the whole animal
kingdom. First : it is known that in all living animals, from
the lowest to the highest, an analogy exists in the structure of
their bodies ; so that Man, and all animals below him, have
certain organs in common. That being the case, the author
expected to find that in the nervous system, which controls
those organs, there would be a corresponding commonness of
character visible in the whole animal kingdom. But again, as,
in the various organs composing the body, a gradual process of
development takes place, so that the organization of each rises
in perfection in proportion as animals ascend in the scale ; and
as, in some particular parts, the mechanism undergoes material
changes, giving rise to quite a new arrangement of the structures,
he thought it reasonable to expect that corresponding modifica-
tions would be introduced into the nervous system, to adapt it
to the new construction of such parts.

Proceeding on that view, he was led to observe that the
numerous members of the body which are supplied by the spinal
nerves and fifth cerebral nerve, form together a system, which,
as regards the uses they serve in the economy, presents a re-
markable uniformity through the whole animal kingdom , while
in the organ of Respiration supplied by the other set of nerves,
a striking difference in that respect exists ; the apparatus of
Breathing, in the lowest animals, is applied exclusively to
oxygenating the Blood ; its mechanism is adapted to no other
office : but in the higher animals, although it continues to execute
that necessary function of purifying the blood, it has a new and
iistinct office superadded to it ; the mechanism is altered and
arranged in such a manner as to adapt it to be the organ of Voice;
and in Man it is besides the essential part of the organ of Speech
and Expression.

224

OF THE NERVES.

Hence, the author was led to conclude: — First, That the class
ot spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve represents in Man a
system which exists, under different phases, in every animal, and
he called it the " Original*' class : Secondly, That the nerves of
the organ of Respiration are a new system, introduced in corre-
spondence with changes which take place in the structure of that
organ, in the course of its development, to adapt it to Man's
intellectual nature, and he called them the " Superadded," or
" Respiratory " class.

To give a full exposition of the grounds on which the above
classification is founded, would occupy more space than my limits
allow. But I may point out briefly some of the leading facts 01
which it is based.

First, as to the statement, That the spinal nerves and fifth
cerebral nerve, called the " Original " class, superintend organs
common to the lowest animals and Man, — it is necessary, in
order to judge of its correctness, to inquire, What organs are
possessed alike by Man and all the inferior animals ?

To give the most comprehensive answer to that question, the
best mode is to consider — Which are the organs that distinguish
a member of the Animal kingdom from a member of the Vege-
table kingdom ? By thus going to the bottom of the scale of
living beings, and observing what instruments are essential for
the existence of the animal of simplest structure, as well as of
Man, and then taking into view the nerves required for con-
trolling such parts, we shall arrive at a knowledge of the nervous
system in its " Original," or least developed condition ; and by
tracing both the organs and the nerves upwards to Man, we shall
be able to judge of the persistence of the class, through the whole
animal kingdom.

Now, when we compare Animals and Vegetables together, we
find that they are not so distantly related to each other as might
at first be thought. Indeed, some animals, living on the confines
oetween the two kingdoms, bear such a close resemblance to
plants, and plants to animals, that zoologists often meet with
difficulties in deciding whose subjects they are. But if we take
a general principle for oar guidance, and disregard these approxi-
mations, (for in the works of Nature there are no sudden,
trenchant divisions,— she never arranges the objects of creation
in squares, circles, or parallelograms ; but proceeds, even in he*

OF THE NERVES.

225

progress from the inorganic to the organic world, by slow,
uniform gradations), we shall find that the Animal possesses
organs essentially distinct from the Vegetable.

The organs common to the vegetable and animal, are those
connected, with the nourishment, growth, and reproduction of the
structures. Thus, a plant imbibes nutritious matters from the
earth : circulates that matter, as sap, along the branches and
leaves ; the sap is subject to a process of purification similar to
that effected upon the blood of animals, by the lungs ; it has,
besides, organs, like secreting glands, for eliminating various
substances from the sap. All those organs are analogous to
the parts in the animal frame which serve for digestion, assimila-
tion, oxygenation of the blood, secretion, excretion, &e. It is
not, therefore, among them, that we look for distinctive charac-
ters between Vegetables and Animals.

The difference will be found when we consider, that a plant is
motionless — is a fixture to the part of the earth where it was
originally sown, and obtains its nourishment by the very roots
which fix it to the soil ; while an animal, on the contrary, is loco-
motive, and must shift from spot to spot, in quest of nutriment.

Here, then, is the great and prominent distinction between a
member of the vegetable and of the animal kingdom. The one
is stationary ; the other endowed with spontaneous motion. To
ascertain, therefore, what are the characteristic, distinctive parts
of an Animal body we have to inquire — What organs must be
supplied to adapt it to move from place to place in search of
food, and to enable it when it has reached its food, to seize and
appropriate it ?

The First set of organs which an animal will require, will be
organs of Locomotion or progression ; in other words, parts
analogous to our limbs ; if the creature be aquatic, they may be
fins, or paddles ; if it move in the air, they may be wings ; if it
inhabit dry land, they may be extremities and feet. The Second
will be instruments which the animal may put forth, as we do
our hands, to seize and secure the objects of nourishment ; and
they may be presented under various forms, as tentacles, paws
armed with claws, projecting muzzles with teeth of peculiar
shape : these are the Prehensile organs. The Third will be a
Mouth, provided with appendages more or less resembling
teeth, for dividing and triturating the food, and preparing it toi

226

OF THE NERVES.

passing along the gullet to the stomach. The Fourth will be
>rgaus capable of regulating the combined machinery of th-e
body; that is, parts endowed with the power of initiating motion,
and senses to guide the movements of the animal ; that is, a
Nervous System, consisting of nerves of motion, nerves of sense,
and a seusorium analogous to the brain.

If we take a general survey of the animal kingdom, we shall
find that every living being, whatever may be its place in the
scale, possesses a representative, of one kind or other, of all the
organs just enumerated. It is true that their structure, in the
lowest, is greatly varied ; in many, the signs of affinity to vege-
tables obscure their proper character ; in others, the organs
serving for distinct purposes are more or less fused into each
other, so as to be distinguished with difficulty ; again, we meet
with infinitely varied modifications in the mechanism of the same
organs, to accommodate them to the innumerably different
modes by which animals obtain their food : yet from the lowest
animal inhabiting a stagnant pool up to Man, a single type or
plan of formation is adhered to.

We may now perceive how the author came to believe, that
the spinal nerves and fifth cerebral nerve, in Man, is a class
common to all grades of the animal kingdom. Let me re-
capitulate the organs to which the nerves of that class are sent.
1st, the spinal nerves supply the Lower Extremities — the organs
of progression in man, corresponding with those members by
which other animals move from place to place in search of food :
2dly, they are sent to the Upper Extremities, the arm and haad
— the instruments of prehension in man, analogous to those
organs by which the inferior animals seize and secure objects of
nourishment ; 3dly, the branches of the motor root of the fifth
cerebral nerve are distributed to the muscles of the Jaws — the
manducatory organ— corresponding with the ora aperture of the
lower animals, where food is delayed and submitted to triturat;on
previous to being swallowed and passed into the stomach. Finally,
this system suprjlies nerves to the two organs of sense which are
most essential for guiding the movements of an animal in search
of nourishment : it gives the nerves of Touch, and of Taste.*

* As it is by the sense of Taste, combined with touch, thai
animals distinguish ti.eir food, we can understand why the nerve
taste — the Gustatory branch of the fifth cerebral nerye — sli^uld

OF THE NERVES.

227

Secondly : as to the " Kespiratory " class of nerves, and their
being a superadded system, introduced in the higher animals in
correspondence with changes of structure which the organ of
breathing undergoes, in its course of development through the
animal kit^om, to adapt it to Voice, in Man — the correctness of
that theory will be best perceived by taking a general survey of
the apparatus for resr. Vation, as presented in the lowest and the
nigh est animals.

To follow the short description I am about to give, it may be
or advantage to consider, at the outset, — What are the conditions
required in the organ of Respiration to accommodate it to produce
Voice, besides carrying on its primary and ordinary function of
oxygenating the blood?

The first thing is, that the air, with which the blood to be
purified is brought in contact, shall be collected within a partially
closed cavity ; and that the walls of that cavity shall be capable
of contracting on the volume of air, so as to expel it with an
impetus sufficiently strong to produce vibrations, and thus give
rise to sound. The second essential thing is, that a tube, or
windpipe, shall communicate between the cavity and the external
air; and that, connected with that tube, there shall be an
appropriate apparatus for varying and modulating the sounds
produced by the expulsion of air through the tube. That is the
simplest view of an organ of Voice, such as belongs to man.

But in the lowest animals, we find no vestige of a structure
like what has been described. The air which oxygenates the
blood, instead of being drawn into the interior of the body,
exercises its influence on the blood from without — that is, by
coming in contact with the exterior surface of the animal ;
and there is no provision at all, connected with the organ of
breathing, for producing sound. In the whole extent of com-
parative anatomy, so fertile in subjects calculated to inspire

be included in a system, common to all members of the animal
kingdom, found in the earliest period of animal development, as in
the latest. It has been stated before (p. 214), that the other senses,
\\z. seeing, hearing, and smelling, are bestowed upon animals, one
after the other, according as they rise in the scale, and their
organization becomes adapted to the possession of such additional
senses. That may explain why the optic, auditory, and olfactory
nerves should have distinct origins from the brain.

Q 2

22S

OF THE NERVES*

admiration, there is nothing which raises that feeling more, than
observing the series of simple changes which gradually take place
in different animals, as they ascend in the animal scale, t<t
conduct the air, applied, at first, to parts situated externally, intc
the interior of the body, there to be partially closed in, and made
available for producing Voice and Articulate Language, besides
purifying the blood.

In the inferior animals which are only a grade above
Vegetables, no distinct respiratory organ exists. That deficiency
corresponds with the absence of a system of vessels for circulating
the blood in these creatures. The fluids obtained by assimilation
of the food, and representing blood, are diffused through the
cellular structure of the animal's body; and it is simply by the
air being brought into contact with the integument, that a
process ofcoxygenation, analogous to what takes place in the lungs
of the higher animals, is effected : so that the mode of purification
of the fluids in animals at the bottom of the scale, differs but
little from that in vegetables. As soon as distinct tubes are
formed for circulating the nutrient fluids (scarcely to be called
blood at that early period) through the body, traces are perceived
of a respiratory organ. A congeries of vessels directing their
course to a particular spot, indicates that the apparatus for
respiration is situated at that part : but we find nothing as yet
approximating in appearance to Lungs. The animals referred to
live in the water : and all that can be seen to represent a
respiratory organ, is a set of loose fringes, or tufts, formed by
duplications, or prolongations, of the integuments. By floating
freely in the water, these tufts expose the blood circulating in
them to the action of the air with which the water is charged,
in a more effectual manner than can be done by the integument
generally. As the (circulating system becomes more distinct, the
fringes are exchanged for small sacs within the animal, formed
by the integument folded inwards upon itself, and open for the
ingress and egress of water. These pouches are, at first, mere
shallow cavities ; but as the organization advances, their lining
membranes, on which the blood-vessels are spread, are disposed
into numerous folds, so as to increase the extent of surface with
which the water and its contained air come in contact. The
apparatus for respiration in Insects, is a modification of the latter
kind of structure : ranged along the sides of their bodies, at

OF THE NERVES.

229

regular intervals, there is a succession of holes, which are the
openings of a series of infinitely small tubes, extending in all
directions through their interior ; these openings and tubes
conduct the air into their bodies, where it has the effect ot
purifying the blood. A higher form of respiratory organ is
presented in branchiae or gills. These are possessed by such
animals only as have the circulating system so far developed, that
the elements of a heart, and a distinct set of vessels for
conveying the blood to be oxygenated, appear for the first time ;
and they therefore indicate a greater concentration both of the
respiratory organ and of the circulating system. But even gills
pass through many gradations before they acquire that high
degree of development with which we are most familiar in Fishes.

What we have chiefly to remark in all the modes of respiration
hitherto mentioned is ; first, that until we arrive at the order
Fishes, the lowest of the Vertebrata, the Mouth has no connection
with the organ of breathing ; — in all the Invertebrate, that aper-
ture serves exclusively for taking in the food and manducation.
Secondly, that it is in fishes, that we have the earliest example
of an internal skeleton, in which is blocked out, as it were, the
first rude form of a chest, for containing lungs, and for drawing
in and expelling the air through a single tube, the trachea, or
windpipe, communicating with the Mouth.

It may be new to many of the readers of this work to be told
that the Air-Bladder, which serves in most fishes to accommo-
date their specific gravity to the various degrees of density of
the water in which they swim-, is, in reality, an elementary Lung.
Yet that is proved to be the case by many facts in comparative
anatomy. It is sufficient to state, that a set of fishes exist called
sauroid (from their resemblance to the inferior kinds of Reptiles);
in which the air-bladder communicates with the mouth by a
tube (termed ductus pneumaticus), which resembles, in all
respects, a windpipe ; and these fishes, when left on dry land,
can respire by this apparatus, independently of their gills. The
same structure passes through various gradations in other animals
intermediate between fishes and reptiles, till the gills at length
disappear, and the air-bladder becomes a more perfectly or-
ganized lung.

If we trace the progressive changes by which the sac, thus
introduced for the first time, into the interior of the body in

230

OF THE NERVES.

£onm uuication with the mouth, becomes at length surrounded
by an apparatus of ribs and muscles, capable, by alternate expan-
sion and contraction, of drawing in and expelling air, we shall
find that the mechanism makes important advances towards a
perfect form of that kind of respiration, in the order Reptiles.
In the lowest of the order, viz. those reptiles immediately above
fishes — Frogs and Tortoises — the development of ribs is so im-
perfect, that instead of the sac, or lung, being filled with air by
an expansive motion of the thorax, it is gradually distended by
►successive actions of the Mouth, like swallowing: and Nostrils,
through which the air is thus sucked, are now perceived. In
the higher reptiles, as the Crocodiles, the membraneous sac
becomes more compact, and like the proper substance of lung : it
is permeated by numerous branches of the windpipe, which sub-
divide and terminate in air-cells : and the lungs are now for the
first time surrounded by the Kibs, and Sternum, provided with
muscles to expand and contract the cavity. Although, in conse-
quence of the weak, flexible structure of the bones of the chest
(corresponding with the tortuous movements of the reptile in
creeping), the process of alternate expansion and contraction is
carried on imperfectly, the quantity of air received and dis-
charged, small as it is, is sufficient for animals which are cold-
blooded, and have a torpid circulation like theirs.

But however near an approximation is thus made, in reptiles,
by the introduction of Nostrils, a Windpipe, and Lungs encased
in a Thorax, to the apparatus of respiration as it exists in Man,
a great change remains to be effected, before the resemblance is
complete. Not only in reptiles, but in Birds, which is the order
of vertebrata next above reptiles, the lungs occupy a part of the
body common to them and the viscera generally : the thorax and
abdomen form a single cavity. It is not till we ascend to the
Mammalia, the order above birds, and next to Man, — those
vertebrate animals which have Lips, and can suck the teat — that
a subdivision of the trunk into two distinct chambers, is found.
That separation is accomplished by means of the Diaphragm, a
muscular partition, which stretches across from the lower border
of the ribs on one side to that on the other. When that muscle
is added, the lungs are closed in on all sides by moveable walls,
capable of expansion and contraction. ; so that by enlarging
the cavity, or inspiring, air is received freely into the chest j

OF THE NERVES.

231

and it can then be expelled, by respiration, with whatever
degree of force is desired. In short, when the diaphragm is
introduced, the organ of breathing attains its highest condition
of concentration in the animal kingdom : and it is not only-
adapted in an admirable manner for oxygenating the blood, but
for propelling the air along the windpipe, with such regulated
force as is necessary to produce Vocal sounds.

When the chest has acquired the compact form just described,
several modifications in the structure of different parts of the
frame, which do not at first appear directly related to breathing,
take place. New sensibilities, intended to guard the apparatus,
and which have the power of animating numerous distinct muscles,
to co-operate rapidly in producing appropriate defensive actions, are
also introduced, in correspondence with the change of mechanism.
It is necessary, in order to understand properly the uses of the
nerves distributed to the organ, to bear those arrangements in
view ; and I may therefore direct attention to a few of them.

The first example will be from the act of Swallowing. We
are so familiar with deglutition as an action performed in the
same passage by which we receive our breath, that it does not
seem remarkable, that food for nourishment, and air for respiration,
should both be safely admitted by one entrance : and yet in about
nine-tenths of the animal kingdom, namely, all the invertebrata,
the mouth is appropriated exclusively to taking in food, and has
nothing to do with respiration. But let us suppose a morsel in
the mouth, and trace its progress to the stomacu. I only allude,
in passing, to the arrangements by which, when the mouth is
full, and no air passes into the lungs by that inlet, it is provided
that the breathing shall proceed uninterruptedly, by the Nostrils,
which open into the throat behind, directly over the proper orifice
of the windpipe. When the morsel has been chewed, and is
ready for swallowing, it is propelled into the back of the mouth :
and here it comes in contact with a part of the throat, which is
endowed with a remarkable sensibility, — a sensibility of such a
nature that, when excited, there is an irresistible desire to swallow ;
and the consequence is, that whenever the sensible spot is touched
by the morsel, a large class of muscles, consisting not only of
those immediately adjoining, but of others situated at a distance,
are brought into combined action, to grasp and propel the food
rapidly into the gullet. Here a great variety of movements takes

232

OF THE NEIIVES.

place consentaneously. The windpipe is closed by its valve, the
epiglottis, falling over it ; the posterior nostrils are shut, by the
folding upwards of the curtain, called the soft palate ; certain
strong muscles surrounding the upper part of the gullet compress
the morsel, and urge it quickly past the opening of the windpipe
into that canal; but, before the food can reach the stomach, it
must pass through muscular fibres of the diaphragm, encircling
the gullet ; these fibres consequently relax, and there is a momen-
tary interruption of the regular action of the diaphragm. Now
Ul these actions, which show so remarkable a consent between
the muscles of deglutition and of respiration, are excited and
regulated by the peculiar sensibility seated at the back part of
the throat. If, however, there should be any disturbance in the
act of swallowing, and a small portion of the food should pass
the wrong way, a different set of actions will occur, under the
influence of another kind of sensibility ; for example, if a crumb
of bread should lodge in the throat, near the opening of the
windpipe, a sensibility distinct from that which gives rise to
swallowing, will be excited; and will rouse the muscles to pro-
duce a set of movements altogether different from the former :
the same muscles which are at one time engaged in deglutition,
will now be combined in such a way as to cause a succession of
violent extirpations or fits of coughing, which will continue till
the irritating particle is expelled from the top of the windpipe,
and the danger of choking removed. So there are various other
sensibilities seated in distinct parts of the passages, which differ
in kind as well as degree, from those just mentioned ; and, when
these are excited, similar concatenated actions of the muscles are
produced, modified according to the structure which requires to
be cleared or defended.

I shall take the next example from the Circulating System.
Comparative anatomy shows that, according as the apparatus of
respiration becomes more perfectly organized, the heart and
blood-vessels begin to be subdivided into two distinct systems ;
xhe one for sending the blood to the lungs, and returning it when
purified : and the other for distributing the purified blood to the
body, and returning it for renewed oxygenation. That is the
origin of the distinction drawn by anatomists, between the
pulmonic circle, which includes the part of the heart and blood
vessels that belong to the lungs ; and the systemic circle, or part

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233

of the heart and blood-vessels which send the blood over the
body, and return it to the heart. This separation takes place iu
the animal kingdom, slowly and gradually, and is only complete
in the warm-blooded animals. Thus, in man, the division of the
circulating system appropriated to the lungs consists of cavities
of the heart and of blood-vessels, quite distinct from those
provided for propelling the blood over the body. Yet these two
divisions act in perfect concert with each other ; a concert
mechanically secured by the peculiar structure of the heart ; for
the two sets of muscular cavities constituting the heart, are joined
together, to form a single organ, and they contract in unison.
Thus, so close a sympathy is established between the heart and
the organ of respiration, that any interruption to the breathing
will not only affect the action of the division of the heart which
belongs to the lungs, but it will disturb the action of that part,
joined to it in structure, by which the purified blood is conveyed
through the body. Again, agitation of the heart, by disturbing
the regular flow of blood to and from the lungs, will in like
manner disturb the actions of respiration.

Another point, still connected with the Circulating system,
deserves to be noticed, as throwing light on some of the questions
treated in the work. The blood which returns to the heart by
the veins, flows towards the chest in a slow and easily interrupted
stream ; the force which propelled it when issuing from the heart
by the arteries, being exhausted before it enters the veins.
From this weakness of the current, it follows that the blood
collected in the great veins close to the entrance of the chest —
as the jugular veins, for example — may be stopped by a slight-
cause ; when congestion of the minute branches will be the
consequence, and serious injury may be occasioned to the more
delicate organs from which the blood returns. Now there arc
certain conditions of the chest in breathing, during which the
venous blood is thus interrupted. As we draw in the breath,
the blood flows along the veins with perfect facility, because the
superior opening of the chest is then enlarged, and the suction,
which draws air into the windpipe, has also the effect of in-
creasing the force of the current of returning blood. But when
we expel the air, and thereby diminish the area of the chest, an
obstruction takes place in the flow of blood in the veins, and if
ihe act of expiration be strong, regurgitation may be produced

234

OF THE NERVES.

This in term J cion, and retrograde motion of the blood ,n i»»
large veins of the neck, gorges the smaller vessels; the effect
of which may be seen in a person seized with a fit of coughing or
of sneezing : for his face then becomes suffused with red, and the
superficial veins turgid with blood. It is therefore obvious, that
if the veins of the surface of the head become congested, in such
violent conditions of breathing, the deeper veins, returning thp
blood from the Brain and the Eye, will also be over distended
from the same cause. Consequently, the delicate textures o\
these important organs will be in danger of suffering serioui
injury from the loaded and turgid condition of the veins. But
both organs are defended from such dangers by a beautifu.
arrangement of the muscles of the neck, which cover and protect
the venous trunks. These muscles act in sympathy with the
movements of respiration ; so as to compress the large veins
when the chest is contracted, and there is a tendency to re-
gurgitation of the blood ; and to take pressure off them, when
.he chest is expanded, and the channel to the heart is free. It is
urther to be noticed, that the flat web of muscular fibres whicli
30 vers the eye — the orbicularis muscle, by which we wink, and
shut the eyes — is a part of the same provision. It acts in
compressing the eye-ball whenever the chest is violently con-
tracted, as in coughing, &c. ; by that means it closes the veins
at the back of the orbit, and prevents engorgement of the fine
branches which ramify on the delicate coats within the eyeball.*

* The orbicularis muscle is wanting in animals which have not
the same concentrated apparatus for breathing as man. I have
shewn elsewhere that in man and mammalia another provision
exists besides that mentioned in the text, for guarding the eye
against the irregularities of the venous circulation. The small
veins which ramify in the interior of the organ between the delicate
membranes that support the retina, join the larger trunks, before
these pass out from the eye-ball, in a peculiar manner ; each branch
makes a circular sweep, so as to describe nearly a complete circle,
previous to entering its principal vein, and being arranged in
concentric circles, they produce an appearance whence the name
vasa vorticosa has been applied to them. Nothing can be more
admirably adapted than this structure for breaking the force of a
retrograde current of blood, and gradually diffusing it over the
membranes. A similar vertieose arrangement, though not so
distinct, is )bserved in the superficial veins of the brain, and is
obviously d< signed for a similar object.

OF THE NERVES.

Hence it may be perceived by what close ties of sympathy the
Circulating System and the Respiratory Organ are held together,
when both are in the concentrated condition presented in Man.
The heart acts upon the organ of breathing : and it, in its turn,
is acted upon by the lungs. It is in this manner that the
troubled motions within the breast, which sensibly accompany
intense Emotion or Passion, exhibit themselves outwardly.
Sudden changes of colour in the countenance denote disturbances
in the heart's action ; laboured, irregular movements of the chest,
extending to the neck and face, mark corresponding interruptions
to the action of the respiratory organ : and both give rise to the
varieties of Expression. Man is so constituted that he interprets,
5s a natural language, these signs of a troubled bosom in his
iellow men. It is a mode of communication intelligible to the
inhabitants of every nation and clime, however diversified their
articulate words. In this sense, Expression is a link which binds
mankind in one common family.

If, in that agitated state of respiration, Voice, either in song or
speech, be added, the sounds partake the perturbed condition ;
and carry an effect as coming direct from the " bosom's lord," the
Heart. Then is it that language, or music, exerts its most
intense influence on the feelings of others.

It was from studying the human body with these views, that
the author concluded :— that the nerves which arise from a part
of the brain distinct from that which give. . >ff the nerves generally,
and which are distributed to the organ of respiration, are bestowed
in correspondence with the changes of mechanism which take
place in that organ, and the new relations which are established
between it and other parts, during its course of development in
the animal kingdom. He believed that the main design of those
progressive changes was to afford to man an instrument suited to
the superior endowments conferred on him : — to supply him with
an organ for the communication of thought, and for thus exercising
and evolving the powers of his Mind — the great attribute by
which he holds his exalted position in Creation. But as for
intercourse with his fellow-men, Man does not depend upon
articulate language alone ; there is the language of Expression ;
a mode of communication understood equally by mankind ail
over the globe ; — not conventional, or confined to nations, but
ased by the infant before speech, by untutoreu ravage visited hy

236

OF THE NERVES.

civilised European — be thought that the apparatus which was
introduced for Voice and Language, was the same by which
passion and emotion address themselves to us. Accordingly, he
concluded, that the nerves of Respiration are at the same time
the nerves of Expression.

Of these nerves, the " JSTervus Vagus," from its extensive dis-
tribution, and the importance of the organs which it supplies,
must be accounted the most considerable. As its name implies,
it takes a long, wandering course. Arising from the same part
of the brain as the other respiratory nerves, it first gives branches
to the back of the throat and posterior orifices of the Nostrils ;
descending a little in the neck, it sends a nerve to the upper
part of the larynx, the organ of Voice ; having passed further
down, and entered the chest, a branch is reflected upwards, which
goes, like the last, to the Larynx, but supplies its lower part ;
branches are next transmitted along the principal blood-vessels,
to the Heart ; while others, following the course of the bronchial
tubes, enter the Lungs : the nerve having now expanded nearly
all its fibrils, descends along the gullet, and terminates in
branches to that tube and the orifice of the stomach, where they
are encircled by muscular fibres of the Diaphragm. The use of
the nerve appears to be, to unite the various structures which
have been enumerated, in sympathy ; so that although situated
at remote distances, and for the most part intrinsically distinct in
function, they may act in concert with the organ of respiration
generally ; and harmony may be established in the many com-
plicated actions which they are associated together in performing.
The " Spinal Accessory " nerve passes obliquely down the side cf
the neck, to supply muscles attached to the upper part of the
chest and the shoulder-blades ; and as these muscles co-operate
with others in expanding the chest, and assist also in preventing
irregularities in the venous circulation during the excited con-
ditions of breathing, it is concluded that the function of the
nerve is to associate the muscles to which it goes, with the organ
of respiration. The name of the next nerve in order, the
" Gosso- pharyngeal, " indicates the parts to which it is distributed,
the Tongue, and the Pharynx, or funnel-like expansion at the
back part of the throat, which forms the common opening of both
the windpipe and the gullet : as it is here that the numerous
complicated and finely arranged actions by which the entrance

OF THE NERVES.

237

into the air- tube is protected during deglutition are performed,
the glossopharyngeal nerve seems provided to regulate those
actions, and connect them with the operations of the organ of
breathing generally. The last nerve to be specially mentioned,
is the " Portio-dura :" coming out from the place of common
origin of the respiratory nerves, before the ear, it sends branches
first upon the side of the neck, to supply muscles which overlay
and compress the veins in that part ; it next gives nerves to the
lips ; afterwards to the nostrils ; then to the orbicular muscle of
the eye-lids : lastly, to the muscles of the brows ; and, in order
"to reach the parts of the face, to which it is destined, the nerve
Has to travel across the large masseter muscle, and the equally
iarge temporal muscle, to neither of which (being muscles of
mastication, and supplied by the Fifth nerve) does it give even
/he smallest branch : the chief use of the portio-dura is to
associate the muscles of the lips and of the Nostrils, the twro
external orifices of the air-tube, with the rest of the organ of
respiration ; but it fulfils other duties at the same time ; its
branches which descend upon the neck, and those which go to
the orbicular muscles of the eye-lids, control movements con-
nected with disturbances in the venous circulation, produced
in certain excited states of the respiration; while the whole
nerve, in virtue of its commanding the motions of all the features
of the countenance, is the great source of Expression in the
Face.

Having shewn the gradual process by which the organ of
breathing is newly modelled, to adapt it to voice and
expression, it is not out of place to point out how those other
organs of the body, which have been described as super-
intended by the " Original " class of nerves, — viz., the spinal
nerves and fifth cerebral nerve — accommodate themselves to the
new mechanism. It will be seen that, in the early stages of
development of animals, owing to the defective organization
of the Locomotive and Prehensile instruments, the Mouth is
embarrassed by having to perform offices, connected with
obtaining food, which preclude its being used as an orifice for
breathing ; it has consequently no connection with the organ oi
respiration. But by degrees those subsidiary organs improv
free the Mouth from performing more duties than those oi
manducu .ion, and it is converted, at last, into an opening which

238

OF THE NERVES.

serves not only for receiving food, but for respiration, voice, and
speech. As it is the adaptation of the size of the jaws, and ol
the cavity of the Mouth to Speech, which, according to the
principles of the author,* impart the characters of nobleness and
beauty to the permanent form of the human head, which distin-
guish it from the brute, 1 may briefly trace the steps in ths
development by which that is effected.

It was intimated before, that animals placed at the bottom of
the scale of living beings, have an organization in many points
resembling vegetables ; nevertheless, those creatures possess an
organ corresponding to the Mouth. But at that pristine stage of
animal life, there are no distinct prehensile or locomotive organs
to minister to the mouth ; the " oral aperture " is little more
than one of the spongioles in the root of. a vegetable, by which
nutritious fluids are attracted from the soil. Take the example
of the Sponges : fixed to a rock in the sea, the sponge cannot
transport itself from place to place in search of food : it has no
feelers or arms to procure nourishment ; it is, in short, like a
plant f in every respect but this, that instead of imbibing its
food from the spot from which it grows, its numerous pores or
mouths placed on the free surface of its body, receive the
nutritious substances floating or dissolved in the water around
it ; the currents and undulations of the sea sweeping its pendulous
body from side to side, and to and fro, compensate in some degree
for the deficiency of locomotive and prehensile organs. Advancing
higher in the scale, animals are met with still fixed to a rock,
and wanting in locomotive organs ; but the mouth is now
provided with instruments corresponding to prehensile organs.
Thus certain species of Polypes, attached to corals, exist, which
have their open mouths surrounded by rows of tentacles or
ciliary processes,^ the principal use of which is to cause circles or
eddies in the water near them, so that the nourishing matter in
their neighbourhood may be attracted to their mouths, caught,
and swallowed. In ascending a little higher, we find animals
in general structure like those just described, having a mouth
provided with tentacles capable of directing nourishing matter
into it ; but instead of these animals being fixed by moorings to
a rock, they are let loose to float in the ocean ; and we percei re,

* Page 29, f Whence the name, " Zoophytes."

J Like petals of flowers, whence the name, " sea-flowers.r

OF THE SERVES.

239

/)V the first time, indications of locomotive organs, combined
with mouth and prehensile organs. The creatures to which I
refer, are such as the " Sea-nettle." That animal consists ot a
mass of buoyant soft substance ; by alternate contractions and
expansions of its body, it has a slight power of directing its move-
ments ; but it trusts chiefly for its changes of feeding-ground to
the effects of the tides and currents of the sea : like a boat without
oars or rudder, it is drifted from sand-bank to sand-bank, and
floating along passively, a prey to stronger creatures, and defended
only by its stings, it picks up the food which casually falls within
its reach; in short, its organs of progression are in the lowest stage
of development. And here it may be remarked, that it is the
ocean, lakes, or rivers, where we must look for creatures such as
those described, which have their organs of prehension and of
locomotion, and mouths, least advanced in organization : not only
does the density of the water assist in buoying up their bodies
an<i make them independent of solidly constructed members to
rest or move upon ; but the fluid divides or dissolves the nutritious
matters, so as to be more easily received into their mouths of
simple structure. Accordingly, when we ascend higher in the
animal series, and arrive at those animals which possess the
earliest distinct representations of legs, such as belong to the
highest, we perceive that the numbers of creatures capable of
living on dry land begin to increase. I allude to animals
which have an internal skeleton, that is, a skeleton composed of
bones, found for the first time in the class Vertebrata. But
amongst these the parts corresponding to legs and arms are, at
the commencement, so imperfectly formed, that the animals to
which they belong partly inhabit the water, and partly the land ;
and when they do visit the dry land, they crawl upon their
bellies, that is, they assist their weak and slender extremities by
the tortuous motions along the earth of their trunks and tails ;
as we see in the crocodile or lizard. Gradually, as the develop-
ment proceeds, and the bones acquire increased solidity of
structure, the body is well lifted up from the ground, the legs
are longer leveir*, more powerful and more active, as we see in
the condition of Quadrupeds.

Next, let us observe the progressive advancement from the
state of quadrupeds to that of Man. As the four-footed aninia
ascend in th? scale, a contrast becomes evident between the

240

OF THE NERVES.

power and dimensions of their fore and their hind legs. Origin-
ally, both these sets of members participated equally in sustaining
the weight of the trunk and head, and moving the body ; but,
by degrees, the hind legs increase in size and strength dispro-
portionately to the fore-legs ; and the latter become possessed
of freer and more diversified motion. In short, in the strong
hind-quarters of the horse, deer, &c, we see a preparation for
the parts corresponding to the lower extremities of Man, be-
coming the exclusive organs of progression ; and in the light,
agile forms of the fore-legs, a preparation for those corresponding
to the upper extremities, taking on the part of arms, to act
exclusively as instruments of prehension. But it is only in Man
that this distinct appropriation of each member to its own peculiar
function is found complete. The monkey, Man's nearest relation
in the family of animals, can rest upon the hind legs ; but it is
feebly and imperfectly ; he can skilfully grasp a cocoa-nut with
parts resembling human hands ; but his so-called hands are still
instruments of progression; they enable bim to warp himself
with agility along the branches of trees, his proper habitation.
Man is distinguished above all other animals by his lower
extremities having solidity and power sufficient to sustain his body
without the aid of other members, and so as to be his sole organs of
progression : hence his erect position. Again, as man's upper
extremities are emancipated from the duty of assisting in
locomotion, they are free to execute whatever rapid and varied
movements may be called for, either for self-defence or for
procuring nourishment. And in correspondence with that freedom
of action, a Hand is added, which, for the perfection of its
endowments and mechanism, has been, in all ages, a constant
theme of admiration.

Now let us ask, what influence have the improvements thus
shewn in the construction of the organs of locomotion and of
prehension, upon the structure of the Mouth ? The chief use ot
the prehensile organs being to seize food for the supply of the
mouth, 4.t may be expected that, as they become more highly
organized, the mouth will undergo a change in its form. Let us
inquire, then, what effect has the improved organization of the
prehensile organ as seen in the hand of man in allowing the
mouth to be adapted for a vocal organ — an organ of Articulate
Language ?

OF THE NEEVES.

211

It has been stated that in all the vertebrate animals below
man, the member analogous to the arm and hand, is an instru-
ment of progression as well as of prehension. Whether we
take the fin of the fish, the anterior extremity of the reptile, the
wing of the bird, the paddle of the dolphin, or the fore leg of the
horse or dog, the principal, if not the only use of the member is
to assist in locomotion ; only a few quadrupeds, like the squirrel,
the feline animals, &c, besides using their paws for running,
olimbing, burrowing, &c, employ them to carry food to the
mouth. Now the consequence of using the organ intended to
convey the food to the mouth as one for progression, will be, that
the office of appropriating the food will be thrown upon the
mouth itself. Accordingly, in all animals below Man, the
mouth is a prehensile, as well as a manducatory organ. If the
animal be graminivorous, it must crop the herbage with its
teeth before chewing and triturating it ; if it be carnivorous, it
must be provided with large, sharp fangs or tusks, to fight, seize,
and tear its prey, before it can reduce its food to a fit state for
swallowing. In short, the mouth, with its delicate sense of
touch, its hairs or whiskers projecting from it as feelers, and its
jaws armed with large teeth, is to be looked upon, in conjunction
with the long, flexible neck commonly belonging to brutes, as
combining the functions of the human arm and hand, with that
of an organ of mastication.

But it is obvious that a mouth of the large capacity and.
irregular shape of an animal like the horse, ox, dog, or lion, could
never be adapted to produce articulate sounds. In a cavity such
as the mouth of the horse, we can understand how neighing may
be produced ; but we cannot suppose that, by any adjustment of
the tongue or lips, the air, even if it were properly vocalised in
the larynx, could be confined, and then be let suddenly free to
give rise to explosive sounds ; or be impinged against the palate,
to cause guttural sounds; or be directed into the back of the
nostrils, to produce nasal sounds. In short, none of those
numerous, finely-varied changes in the shape of the interior of
the mouth, produced by the combined action of the tongue,
palate, cheeks, and lips, which give rise to the infinite modifica-
tions of sound in speech, could take place in such gross
structures. For the vibrating air expelled from the larynx to be
divided and modulated so as to produce words with proper tone

1%

242

OF THE NERVES.

and accent, it is necessary that the cavity of the mouth should
be small, its boundaries regular and uninterrupted, and the com-
munication between it and the nostrils free.

Now that is the very character of the mouth in Man.
Provided with an arm and hand, free to execute all the objects of
his will, man is under no necessity to use his mouth as the brute
does. Being limited to manducation, the jaw-bones may be of
small size and light construction, while the teeth may likewise
be small, be set erect, and ranged in uniform, regular rows, so
important for distinct articulation. On the whole, from the
mouth being absolved, by the perfection of the hand, from
performing more offices than those of mastication simply, the
cavity admits of being diminished in size, the jaws and teeth of
being reduced to moderate dimensions, and the whole form is
suited in the most admirable manner for an organ of articulate
language.

On looking to the skulls of different races of mankind, it
will be seen that Nature, in fashioning the mouth of man to be
a speaking organ, has not departed from her usual course ot
carrying on the process of development by slow and gradual steps.
Observe what a contrast exists between the skull of the Negro
and that of the European, caused by the inordinately large size
of the jaws and projection of the teeth in the former. The well-
formed skull of the European is distinguished by having the
jaws and teeth of comparatively diminutive size; while the
cavities formed in the interstices between the bones of the face,
at the brows and cheeks, and which communicate with the
nostrils, to allow a free circulation of air round the chambers
where sound is produced, being parts of the organ of Voice, are
full and prominent.

Thus we perceive how the genius of the sculptors and painters
of antiquity led them to discover a principle of beauty, in
designing the human head, founded on a profound view of the
relation existing between Man's physical structure and his mental
constitution — the principle expounded in the first essay of this
work. Regarding his supremacy over all created beings to be in
virtue of his possessing a Mind, they looked for the signs of his
superior organization, to those structures which minister most
directly to the mind. The cranium was represented capacious
and full, it being the part where the Brain, the seat of intellect,

OF THE NEBVES.

243

is lodged. But they studied, at the same time, the organ by
which the operations of the intellect are embodied in Speech
and intercourse is established between the minds of man and
man. The lower part of the face, including the jaws and teeth,
which in brutes have such a preponderating size to enable them
to seize and rend their prey, was made small and delicate ; white
the upper, composed of passages and chambers permeated by the
air, and accessory to the organ of Speech, were expanded and
elevated into due dimensions, so as to give them characteristic
prominence.

Thus, in whatever view we study the development of the
animal frame, new proofs present themselves of the final aim of
sill the modifications which we successively trace, being to confer
upon man an instrument adapted to his intellectual nature — an
organ of Speech. It is the fine adjustment of the various
members of his body for that object, that renders his organization
the most perfect in the animal Kingdom. Additional strength
is, therefore, given to the author's opinions that our conceptions
of human beauty, both as regards the form of the head, and the
moveable features, have a direct relation to the fitness of the
structures for Speech, Voice, and Expression.

Such is a brief account of the leading parts of the discoveries
made by the author of the volume, in that important part oi
the anatomy of the body — the Nervous System. He first
established that the nerves of Motion are distinct from those
of Sensation ; — and that the nerves, generally, possess different
endowments, according to the divisions of the brain or spinal
marrow from which they arise. He then arranged the nerves of
the whole body into three distinct systems, corresponding with
the organs which they respectively control. The First class is
that composed of the Spinal Nerves and fifth Nerve of the brain ;
this class, he provai, bestows both motion and sensation on all
the parts to which it is distributed ; and these parts, he further
shewed, are organs which belong to man in common with the
lowest creatures, their united function being to supply food, the
first necessary want of all animals : he termed this set of nerves
the " Original" class, and included in it the nerves of the various
organs of the senses. The Second class comprises a series of
nerves distinct fr ;m the former, both in their origin and mode of

B 2

244

OF THE NERVES.

distribution; they pass off from a circumscribed central portion
of the nervous system, the medulla oblongata, and diverge to
different parts of the head, neck, throat, and chest, already
supplied by the original class : he shewed that these structures
form together a mechanism for respiration, not found in the
lowest animals, but gradually introduced by a slow process of
development into the animal kingdom, in order that, besides
oxygenating the blood, it may be, in Man, the organ of Voice
and Expression : to this set of nerves he applied the name,
" Respiratory " class. In these two classes are combined all the
nerves together which arise either from the Brain or Spinal
Marrow. The Third class consists of a series of nerves which
have their centre in large ganglions, scattered principally among
the viscera of the abdomen ; this forms the system called
ganglionic or " Sympathetic :" and their use has been generally
supposed to be, to unite in sympathy those organs by which the
various organic functions are performed : such as secretion
absorption, assimilation of the food, the growth and decay of the
body, &c. When the nerves belonging to these different classes
are viewed, as by the anatomist, in their combined condition,
crossing, joining, and interlacing, in the different parts of the
body, nothing can exceed their apparent confusion ; but when
examined by the aid of the principle, and the arrangement
introduced by Sir Charles Bell, ordsr and design are found tc
pervade every part.

EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES,

PLATE I.

Fig. 1. The Skull of a Man fully grown, presented in a front
riew.

a. The Frontal Bone (os frontis).

b. The Protuberances formed by the Frontal Sinuses.

c. The Temporal Kidge ^f the frontal bone; on which the form

of the temple depends.

d. The Cheek Bone (os malse).

E e. The upper Maxillary Bones.
f. The Nasal Bones.

G G. The Orbits or Sockets for the Eye-balls. The circle of their
margin is seen to be formed by the frontal bones, the cheek-
bones, and the superior maxillary bones.

H H. The Temporal Bones. These hollows are filled with a
strong muscle, which arising upon the side of the skull,
passes down, through the arch, to be inserted into the lower
jaw-bone.

1 1. The Mastoid or Mamillary Processes of the Temporal Bone
These are the points into which the strong mastoid muscles
which give form to the neck, are inserted.

k. The Lower Jaw.

l. The Angle of the Lower Jaw.

m. The Processes of the jaws which form the sockets for receiving
the roots of the teeth.

Fig. 2 is the Skull of an Adult seen in Profile, in which we have
to remark these parts : —
A. The Frontal Bone.

b. The Temporal Bone.

c. The Zygomatic Process of the temporal bone, which, with the

process of the cheek-bone, forms an arch, under which the
tendon of the temporal muscle passes, to be inserted into
the lower jaw.

p. The opening of the tube of the Ear ; a little below this is the
mastoid process of the temporal bone.

248

EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES.

e. The Parietal Bone ; so called because it forms the greater part,

as it were, of the wall of the skull,
p. The Occipital Bone.

These bones are united by sutures, in which the processes of one
bone seem to indent themselves, as they grow, into those of the
opposite bone, without there being an absolute union between them.
That which unites the frontal and parietal bone is called the
coronal suture ; that which unites the parietal and temporal bones
is called the squamous or temporal suture : the line between the
occipital and parietal bones is the lambdoidal suture ; and the line
between the parietal bones is called the saggital suture, because it
is laid between the lambdoid and coronal sutures, like the arrow
between the bow and the string.

There are many lesser sutures which unite the smaller bones 01
the face ; but they need not be mentioned here.

G. The Cheek Bone (os malse).

h. The Upper Jaw-bone (maxilla superior).

I. The Bones of the Nose (ossa nasi).

k. The Lower Jaw (maxilla inferior).

l. The Angle of the Jaw.

m. The Process of the Jaw which moves in the socket in tne
temporal bone.

N. The Coronoid Process of the Jaw, into which the temporal
muscle is fixed, to move the jaw in conjunction with other
muscles.

Fig. 3 represents the Skull of an Infant, in which the sutures
are not yet formed, the bones of the cranium being loose, and
attached by their membranes only ; while the spaces may be ob-
served, left unprotected, from the imperfect ossification of the
bones. The individual parts require no references; they will be
understood from their correspondence with fig. 2.

Fig. 4 is the Section of a Cranium, in which the only thing
meant to be particularly remarked, is the cavity which is seen in
the frontal bone, viz. the frontal sinuses.

PLATE It.

OF THE MUSCLES OF THE FACE.

This plate represents the Muscles of the Face as they appear in
a front view.

There are muscles attached to the eyebrow which produce ita
various motions.

PLATE II.

EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES.

249

A a. The Frontal Muscle. A thin muscle, expanded over the
forehead, and inserted into the skin under the eyebrow.
We do not see here the whole of the muscle, but only a
part of what is properly called Occipito-frontalis.

It arises in a web of fibres, from the back of the skull (from a
ridge of the temporal and occipital bones) ; becoming tendinous, it
covers all the upper part of the skull with a membrane or sheet of
tendon, and terminates in the anterior muscle, which is seen in this
view.

b b. The Corrugator Supercilii arises from the lower part of the
frontal bone near the nose, and is inserted into the
integument under the eyebrow. It lies nearly transversely,
and its office is to knit and draw the eyebrows together.

c c. The Circular Muscle of the Eyelids (the orbicularis
palpebrarum). There is a little tendon at the inner angle
of the eye, which is a fixed point for this muscle, attaching
it to the maxillary bone, and being both origin and inser-
tion.

The descending slip of the Occipito-frontalis, or pyramidalis nasi,
is a fasciculus of fibres which descends from the frontal muscle to
be attached to the side of the nose : it has a distinct operation, and
may be considered as a separate muscle. It draws the inner
extremity of the eyebrow downwards.

These four muscles move the eyebrow, and give it all its various
inflexions. If the orbicularis palpebrarum and the descending slip
of the frontalis act together, there is a heavy and lowering ex-
pression. If they yield to the influence of the frontal muscle, the
eyebrow is arched, and there is a cheerful or an alert and inquiring
expression. If the corrugator supercilii acts, there is more or less
expression of mental anguish, or of painful exercise of thought.

Muscles moving the nostrils : —

d. Levator Labii Superioris Alseque Nasi. It arises from the

upper jaw, and is inserted into the upper lip and nostril,
which it raises.

e. Compressor nasi. A set of fibres which compress the nostril,
l. The Depressor Aim Nasi lies under the orbicularis oris. It

arises near the incisor teeth, and is inserted into the move-
able cartilage, which forms the wing of the nostril.
These three muscles serve to expand and contract the nostril.
They move in concert with the muscles of respiration.
Muscles of the Lips : —

p. Levator Labii Proprius. It arises from the upper jaw-bone,
near the orbit, and is inserted into the upper lip, which
it raises.

G. Levator Anguli Oris. This muscle, lying under the last, ie,

of course, shorter : it raises the angle of the mouth,
u. Zygomatic Muscle. So called, because its origin is from the

250

EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES.

zygomatic process of the cheek-bone. It is inserted into
the angle of the mouth.
k. Orbicular Muscle of the Lips.

m. Nasalis Labii Superioris. Draws down the septum of the nose.
N. Triangularis Oris, or Depressor Labiorum. A strong muscle

arising from the base of the lower jaw, and inserted into

the angle of the mouth,
o. Quadratus Menti, or Depressor of the Lower Lip.
P. Levatores Menti. Small, but strong, muscles. They arise

from the lower jaw near the alveolar processes of the

incisor teeth, descend, and are inserted into the integument

of the chin. By their action they throw up the chin and

project the lower lip.
Q. The Buccinator forms the fleshy part of the cheeks. It acts

principally in turning the morsel in the mouth. Its fibres

are inserted into the angles of the mouth.
k. Fibres of the Platysma Myoides, which ascend from the neck

upon the side of the cheek.

PLATE Ul

MUSCLES OF A DOG'S FACE.

A a. Circular fibres, which surround the eye-lids.

bpd. Accessory Muscles, which I name Scintillaiites. They

draw back the eye-lids from the eye-ball.
G h. Muscles of the Ear.

i k. A Mass of Muscular Fibres, always the strongest in this class
of animals, and which, with those concealed under them,
I call Bingentes. They raise the upper lip and expose the
teeth.

l. Muscles which move the nostril in smelling.

m. Circular Fibres of the Mouth, which yet do not make a perfect
orbicular muscle.

n. A Muscle which answers to the Zygomaticus in man, and which
has great power in this animal : it reaches from the ear to
the angle of the mouth. It opens the mouth, retracts the
lips, and disengages them from the teeth, as in seizing
their prey.

o. The Cutaneous Muscle. It sends up a web of fibres fiom the
neck on the side of the face : they are stronger here than
in man.

PLATE III.

PLATE IV.

EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES.

253

PLATE IV.

NERVES OP THE FACE AND NECK.

I. Frontal or supra-orbitary branch of the fifth nerve of the
brain ; the terminating branch of the first or ophthalmic division :
arising simply from the larger or ganglionic root of the fifth nerve,
it bestows sensation alone.

II. Superior maxillary, or infra-orbitary branch of the fifth nerve,
the terminating branch of the second division : arising simply, like
the last, from the sensitive root, it bestows sensation alone.

III. Mental, or inferior maxillary branch of the fifth nerve : it
arises from the third division : by referring to the wood engraving
(p. 217) it will be seen that this branch comes simply from the
sensitive root ; and it gives sensation alone.

IV. Temporal branches of the fifth nerve : they arise in common
with the preceding branch, and bestow sensation alone.

V. This nerve is the only branch of the fifth, arising from the
smaller or motor root, which appears superficially : it is called
buccalis-labialis, from supplying the buccinator muscle, and muscles
at the angle of the mouth ; and it associates these parts with the
muscles of the jaws in mastication.

The branches of the motor root of the fifth, which go to the more
powerful muscles of the jaws, are situated deeply, and are not repre-
sented in the plate. Their distribution may be understood by
looking to the wood engraving (p. 217).

VI. VII, VIII, IX. These are spinal nerves ; the first of the
series which come out, between the vertebra, in the whole length of
the spine, to supply the body generally with motion and sensation.

a. Portio Dura, or Facial Nerve : the motor nerve of the
features. Arising from the medulla oblongata, close to the
origins of the Nervus Vagus, the Glosso-Pharyngeal, and
Spinal Accessory nerves, included in the respiratory class, it
appears superficially before the ear. In front of the ear, and
while lying upon the two principal muscles of mastication,
viz., the masseter and temporal muscles, it forms a web or
plexus ; but it gives no branch to any of the muscles of the
jaws. Its branches pass off as follows : —
a. Frontal branches to the muscles of the forehead and eye-
brow.

6. Branches to the eye-lids.

c. Branches to the muscles which move the nostrils and
upper lip.

d. Branches to the lower lip.

254

EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES.

e. Branches going down upon the side of the neck.

f. Connections with the Cervical Spinal Nerves.

g. A Nerve to the Occipital portion of the Occipito-froL talis
muscle, and to muscles of the ear.

b. The Nervus Vagus, or grand respiratory nerve.

c. The Spinal Accessory Nerve.

d. The Ninth nerve ; motor Nerve of the tongue.

e. Diaphragmatic Nerve.

f. Branch of the Sympathetic Nerve.

G. Superior Laryngeal Nerve, a branch of the Nervus Vagus.
h. Inferior or Recurrent Laryngeal Nerve, a branch of the Nervus
Vagus.

L Glosso-Pharyngeal Nerve

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
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